Each time Julia Older spent writing sessions at the interdisciplinary colony of artists, naturalists and scientists on Ossabaw Island with its alligators and cottonmouth snakes, she came away with a vivid sense of the true wild. A friend later saw Older's poem in The New Yorker about this intriguing land offshore of Georgia and suggested she expand "The Ossabaw Book of Hours," which she did.
She added poems, she writes in the Foreword, "one for each Hour, like an illuminated medieval (primeval) manuscript."
Older begins this intriguing chapbook of other worldly life with: