‘ When I finished Sara Baume’s new novel I immediately felt sad that I could not send it in the post to the late John Berger. He, too, would have loved it & found great joy in its honesty, its agility, its beauty, its invention. Baume is a writer of outstanding grace & style. She writes beyond the time we live in.’ Colum Mc Cann Struggling to cope with urban life – & with life in general – Frankie, a twenty-something artist, retreats to the rural bungalow on ‘turbine hill’ that has been vacant since her grandmother’s death three years earlier. It is in this space, surrounded by nature, that she hopes to regain her footing in art & life. She spends her days pretending to read, half-listening to the radio, failing to muster the energy needed to leave the safety of her haven. Her family come & go, until they don’t & she is left alone to contemplate the path that led her here, & the smell of the carpet that started it all. Finding little comfort in human interaction, Frankie turns her camera lens on the natural world & its reassuring cycle of life & death. What emerges is a profound meditation on the interconnectedness of wilderness, art & individual experience, & a powerful exploration of human frailty.