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One could just easily consume this book whole, but for me it was, mostly, savored as fine wine, imbibed lingeringly. The last book that enraptured, personally, like this was The Life of Pi, by Yann Martel. Philosophy, fantasy, metaphysics, aesthetics, time and place wholly realised amid wild, spanning, lucid narration. This book is akin to walking through a poetic dreamscape, though beware that some of the topics are violently disturbing as much as other parts can be lushly gorgeous. In part, an expository on humanity; mans' beastly temperament, the poetry of wildness, a meditation on mythos of the nature of time, place knowledge, folklore and the ever inevitable mystery of being. But that still does not begin to touch the treasures of language and thought this book contains. "...the most cowardly and lowest of human acts."