To the Water's Edge by Emily García

To the Water's Edge began to take shape during a 2300-mile journey to the bedside of my dying grandfather. The book's structure hearkens to my journals, with a twist: the first and last signatures unfold to reveal maps of the regions surrounding Washougal, WA, and Ithaca, NY, respectively, and the continuous line running between them is a representation of the distance I traveled. Other signatures reveal trail maps. Hiking is how I ground and center myself, and Grandpa Fox was the person who taught me to move quietly in the woods. As I collected and drew the maps for this book, water emerged as the defining element. It is present in each of the hikes depicted, and holds the landscape in a familiar shape even when all the other features are stripped away. So too has the previous year been an exercise in recognizing what remains, what is essential, in the face of loss. I dream, I write, I hike. Every time I set out, I hear Grandpa's voice, naming the tracks, spoor, flowers, and trees.