Windmill: Essays from Four Mile Ranch: Essays from Four Mile Ranch

When a book comes along that speaks with a voice that gives the reader an emotional understanding of the west, it quickly moves to the top of our "must read" list. "Windmill. Essays from Four Mile Ranch" by David Romtvedt is such a book. It is a book that makes the reader feel that you are there...experiencing a real understanding of what it means to live and work in the west.Calling Romtvedt's experiences "essays" is appropriate. They are separate stories...but more than merely stories. They appear to be unrealated chapters, but the thread that weaves throughout is an understanding and appreciation of living in the west. Those who live, or have lived in Wyoming and the west (and we mean LIVED in the west, not just had a residence there), will share the kindred spirit of which Romtvedt writes.Often, when reading these essays, we had to put the book down momentarily to absorb the words, and the experiences behind the words. The words paint pictures of the landscape, the heritage, and contemporary life near Buffalo, Wyoming. Romtvedt allows us to peer into his very personal thoughts and experiences. He lets us know that there is beauty in the "mundane", for what we may first perceive as mundane can been experienced on so many levels. The only limitations to our experiences are those we impose upon ourselves. In Windmill, Romtvedt shows us that it is possible to experience the beauty of the west through something as common as a windmill, as distant as the thunder rolling across the plains and as close as ourselves.Through this book, we are able to experience the beauty of simple words and the complexity of the west. Romtvedt draws us into his world and shows us how easy it is to open ourselves to an awareness of life around us. Whether intended or not, he almost seems to defy us NOT to increase our awareness as we share his awareness of his world.Occasionally, the pictures painted by the words are enhanced with charcoal drawing (or pencil drawings) by Gregory Truett Smith. Those pages don't detract from the word pictures, but rather make us wish there were more of them.The following passage from the book shows the beauty and meaning of simple things:"One June night as I was coming down out of the Bighorns with my friend John Lane, we saw a light we didn't recognize off to the northeast. UFOs maybe, or a giant city that had been built in our two-week absence from civilization. We stopped our truck and got out. In the stillness, we saw the Northern Lights - long shimmering bands of yellow and white pouring down from the top of the world, then racing back up.We stared. After a few minutes, we heard the rumbling of thunder from the southeast, and, turning, we saw lightning - jagged fierce bolts, some running up and down, some back and forth across the sky. We turned from one light to the other.Next came singing. It wasn't the long howling singing of wolves - the last Bighorn wolf was shot in 1939. Rather, it was th

I read a library copy of this book several months ago and now I am thinking about buying a copy for my own library. I thought it was a bit uneven but parts of it have stuck with me. I want to go back and reread it. I found similarities between this book and the nature writings of Amish author David Kline.

In his essays on his small town, the local economy, the local culture, being a nonhunter, death, sheep, and weather, Romtvedt indeed conveys a sense of place and simple wisdom. Recommended for regional, large public, and academic libraries. LIBRARY JOURNA