Morrisey’s writing style brings to mind realist paintings. His descriptions of nature are detailed and lyrical. His way of recounting the minutiae of the most mundane tasks puts the reader in the middle of the action. Note, for example, with how much particularity he describes the simple and familiar action of lighting a camp stove:
Soren put his thumb over the air hold and began pumping up the stove, building pressure in the fuel reservoir. He opened the gas orifice and turned the little striker in the burner bowl. Yellow flames danced up and Soren adjusted the burner, bringing it down to a ring of small blue flames. In seconds the stove began to hiss as the heat of the burner warmed the generator tube.
But the story turns out to be about more than nature’s grandeur and the joys and challenges men face when they interact with it. As Ty and Soren spend time together they confide secrets and learn about each other, themselves, friendship, loyalty, forgiveness, facing the past and the importance of truth. Thus Wind River becomes the story of a double exploit. Not only is it an outdoor adventure of a young man and his old friend revisiting their favorite Wyoming mountain fishing spot (fly fishers will find Morrisey an especially kindred spirit), but it’s also a spiritual adventure about finding the courage to face the past and live truthfully and responsibly in the present. Whichever side of the story you’re after, Wind River won’t disappoint.