Reservoir 13

I finished reading Reservoir 13 by Jon McGregor. I thought it was brilliant. The subtle poetry of shifting months, seasons, years. The regular rhythm both comforting and yet hinting at buried menace and silent agony beneath the veneer of order. The slow turn of ordinary lives and places, nature and community. The sudden, shocking wrench of change. Not told, but shown via the accumulation of carefully observed moments.

Like this moment on broad beans:

“The gentle cushioning of the broad bean pod was one of nature’s senseless excesses. The work was a tedious delight” – Jon McGregor, Reservoir 13

A precursor of dinner. Risotto Primavera. The fresh tang of spring greens and wild garlic through rich, creamy rice even as the weather outside remains stubbornly bitter.

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