Meloy (Raven's Exile: A Season on the Green River) takes the reader through landscapes of pure sensation in these contemplative essays that are part Southwest travelogue, part memoir and part naturalism. Color figures prominently here, especially turquoise, the hue of the signature stone of the region. In one chapter she muses on the history and mystique of the blue-green gem. In another, she reflects whimsically on California's turquoise swimming pools. The Yucatán's turquoise Caribbean coast enthralls her, as does the turquoise sea of the Bahamas. But for Meloy, all colors are captivating, from the red-gold in the spines of a prickly pear glowing in the sun to the clay-red of "waterfalls cascading down lavender and crimson sandstone." Her reactions to the natural world are so intense they border on pain. She finds contact with civilization jarring. In a restaurant her husband seats her near the door so she can "see the night sky and stars and be less likely to shriek with panic and bolt." She needs solitude so she can contemplate the things she considers essential—steep-sided canyons and their swift rivers; a basket woven by a Yokuts Indian woman; an ancient rock maze in the Mojave Desert; a pair of placid old mules spending their retirement in a field. Knowledgeable and lyrical, Meloy's meditations should resonate with those who find sustenance in the natural world. Illus. by the author not seen by PW. (July)
