"We stand guard at our stations: me at the kitchen sink, my son by the front door, and my husband outside by the electrical box. The front door is closed because it’s 24 below. Snowbanks are piled like camel humps under the roof eaves."
"She came from my right and crossed the road not ten feet away, the soft pads of her feet the size of dinner plates. I stopped behind my stroller, my two children, ages three and three weeks, sleeping inside. "
"As a hunter, you can always tell from the quality of his barking what he has cornered, and at four a.m. that spring morning I awoke to the high-pitched yelps that meant Helgi could only be celebrating one thing: porcupine."
"A biologist once told me, "If you want to teach your children how to respect nature, first teach them how to see it."
"When you are no longer connected to the public utility lines, you set up your kitchen a whole different way. At first I was eager to be shod of all my modern conveniences."
"When I first moved to northern Wisconsin, people would ask me, “Do you hunt?” “Do you ice fish?” “Do you garden?” And I would say, “No.”