![]() ![]() Its feathers are shaggy and wet, and from its mouth protrudes the tail end of a silver fish. Arms crossed, hands deep in a pair of unwieldy leather gauntlets, he holds against his chest a huge owl. Behind him are snowy woods and running water. Pale, bearded, dressed in black, he gazes at the camera with forbidding intensity. Jonathan Slaght has the best author photograph I’ve ever seen. Review by Helen Macdonald, 22 July, The Guardian Owls of the Eastern Ice by Jonathan C Slaghtĭrinking ethanol and saving the world … an old-school, tautly strung adventure in pursuit of the largest species of owl ![]() ![]() Thanks for the ‘heads up’ from Steven Boyd Saum (Ukraine 1994-96) ![]()
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