Where the Crawdads Sing

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I thought this was a unique book, about a girl growing up essentially by herself in the marshes of North Carolina. (I'm also partial to books about places I've lived). I liked the point of view, the characters, and even most of the plot. But the ending left too many questions, was too much of a contrived twist, to really feel satisfactory. It was better than I thought this blockbuster was going to be, but not as good as I hoped.

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A great blue heron is the color of gray mist reflecting in blue water. And like mist, she can fade into the backdrop, all of her disappearing except the concentric circles of her lock-and-load eyes. She is a patient, solitary hunter, standing alone as long as it takes to snatch her prey. Or, eyeing her catch, she will stride forward one slow step at a time, like a predacious bridesmaid. And yet, on rare occasions she hunts on the wing, darting and diving sharply, swordlike beak in the lead.

Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly. They take their time and wander on this, their only chance to soar.

She never collected lightning bugs in bottles; you learn a lot more about something when it’s not in a jar.

Biology sees right and wrong as the same color in different light.

But where had all that grit brought her?

Giving away another piece of herself just to have someone else.

Then thought, Like everything else in the universe, we tumble toward those of higher mass.

In the mountains, she noticed, the time of sunset depended on where you stood on the hill.

people forget about creatures who live in shells.