One could do worse than to grow up on a river." In this bountiful book of essays, Wayne Curtis voyages down the tributaries of his past, casting a net to ensnare moments of love, loss, and life on the waterways of New Brunswick. Curtis writes of the simple pleasure of fishing with friends, of his first unforgettable kiss, and of a grandfather who teased that "all dreams that were told before breakfast had a better chance of becoming real." A wistful trek through personal history, Of Earthly and River Things is an elegant requiem for a vanishing culture, a world where people were grateful to the river for its bounty.