While this writing may have been enjoyed as a monthly column, as a book on "a family's journey back to nature" it comes across as pompous. Every single chapter is full of lofty proclamations and discovery of metaphors from nature for Erno's personal life. for example, this exposition from his account of cutting down firewood, "We may chip and hack and vent our pygmy fury upon the earth and its eternal forms, and we may pride ourselves in what we have accomplished, for it has been much, and we have made a noble art and a profound significance out of these elements surrounding us--but in the end we must, if we are to be trul noble, acknowledge the victory of the universe." (p 60)
His wife is always to be found in the kitchen, as someone to come home to after his adventures with his children. There is a lot of anthropomorphism in his observations of animals, and even of nature. "...frequently sowes did occur at that time of the day, with accompanying distant faint rumbles of thunder like the muted grumblings of old men..." (p 67)
And he was obviously not a natural scientist, or he would not have confused water, which bees use for cooling their hives, with nectar: "Bees came for moisture on hot afternoons and partook of refreshing drafts, as dark and pungent as old wine, as tankards full to the brim with ancient mead... they staggered, drunk with earth's inebriant potions, honeyed with summer's golden harvest, like golden nuggets in the arcing sunshine." (p. 67) ( )