I Can Hear the Cuckoo: Life in the Wilds of Wales

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Her words do not so much weave a tapestry as assemble a life’s quilt; each individual patch revealing multiple layers of her life and her growth. After her mother’s loss, she cannot handle the psychological and mental agony, so she makes the drastic choice of leaving the luxurious city life and settling in the Welsh valley in The Long Barn cottage, her new home, surrounded by mountains, lakes, and a plethora of flora and fauna with extreme Welsh (winter) weather when it arrives. Tender, philosophical and moving, I Can Hear the Cuckoo is a story about redefining family, about rebirth and renewal, and respecting the rhythm and timing of the earth. Sidhu doesn’t mention her Indian heritage much, apart from musing on how Indian women are often put upon wherever they are, and that she was uncomfortable with the assumption she did or should have children when she went to visit relatives there.

I enjoyed reading this book,I am a slow reader,but with the chapters being short,it was easy to dip in and out at my own pace and perfect for a break. I was irritated by the endless tautological paragraphs which I would have expected an editor to expunge.It is divided into the seasons; spring, when she and her husband moved to West Wales, summer, autumn and winter. It was quite a short book with short chapters and I got into the swing of swooping around the page, but it was a bit irritating and you wouldn’t have enjoyed it!

Reading this book I felt wrapped and held in the unfolding story,while been given the space to explore,what is being offered in relation to my own journey,side by side. I found it really hard to find the motivation to finish this book, as I found nothing in it compelling. You can also only bookmark a page (in this case, sometimes it came out as a double page) rather than highlighting text, making it difficult to remember what exact bits you want to mention in your review.Her descriptions of the change in herself, enjoying nature and things that she never would have previously before her mother passed away, of the process of "living" again, rang powerful and true. Here, in I Can Hear the Cuckoo: Life in the Wilds of Wales, Kiran is doubly challenged to tell her painful tale of her mother’s loss during Christmas Eve and her subsequent burial on New Year’s Eve, which she can never enjoy as others; indeed, she has never enjoyed this festive season due to her father’s alcoholism during her childhood days and her mother’s demise in adulthood.

The quiet life was a real revelation to her and I loved how she interspersed her new life in Wales, with looking back over her family history and the dark times during her mothers' illness. Her stories of the Welsh countryside, the nature, birds, trees, animals, and the people who inhabited the small hamlet were magical.There was an interesting bit about how her dual heritage made her more flexible and able to accept multiple perspectives.

They’re helped to settle in by the people from the B’n’B they stay in on their first visit, people with their own family troubles, and they get to know other residents and incomers, including the farmer, Wilf, with whom Sidhu has profound conversations that often make them both weep.Healing happens, and acceptance that the expected ways are not always the best ones, especially around Christmas, the time her mother passed away, which now is the most painful season. I wondered what I missed in life by thinking that the wisdom of others whose lives were different to mine could not have any bearing on my life. Here is a tender, philosophical memoir about the beauty of a microscopic life, the value of solitariness, and respecting the rhythm and timing of the earth. I thought Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking was an excellent portrayal of grief in the aftermath of death.