J. A. Baker
John A. Baker lives with his wife in Essex. He has had assorted jobs, including chopping down trees and pushing book trolleys in the British Museum. In 1965 he gave up work and lived on the money he had saved, devoting all his time to his obsession - the peregrine. He re-wrote his account of this bird five times before submitting it for publication. Although he had no ornithological training and had never written a book before, when The Peregrine was published in 1967 it was received with enthusiastic reviews and praise for his lyrical prose. Later that year he was awarded the distinguished Duff Cooper prize. He was also awarded a substantial Arts Council grant. His second book, The Hill of Summer, was published in 1969 and was also received with unanimous praise by the critics.
“There is no mysterious essence we can call a 'place'. Place is change. It is motion killed by the mind, and preserved in the amber of memory.”
“Whatever is destroyed, the act of destruction does not vary much. Beauty if vapour from the pit of death.”
“No pain, no death, is more terrible to a wild creature than its fear of man.”
“Binoculars, and a hawk-like vigilance, reduce the disadvantage of myopic human vision.”
“Wandering flushes a glory that fades with arrival.”