A review by merchantivory
H is for Hawk by Helen Macdonald

in 'england in my bones' white wrote one of the saddest sentences i have ever read: 'falling in love is a desolating experience, but not when it is with a countryside.' he could not imagine a human love returned. he had to displace his desires onto the landscape, that great, blank green field that cannot love you back, but cannot hurt you either. [...] when white writes of his love for the countryside, at heart he is writing about a hope that he might be able to love himself.