A perfectly paced story of strength, resilience, self reliance and discovery sprinkled with some gorgeous community spirit. Lulah Ellender says:‘In this beautiful memoir Campbell traces a season of upheaval, grief and uncertainty as she makes a home in an unusual place… An uplifting, heart-filled read full of hope and love.’

This book is a keeper, quietly powerful, calming and eloquent. The lyrical beauty of the words wash over and through you as you read. Not to be missed. The other day I heard a guy on the radio talking about prehistoric homes, and the particular way humans make home as opposed to, say, birds. It isn’t a penchant for decoration that differentiates us…it’s the compartmentalization of space. The way we cook and shit and work in different areas. We’ve done this forever, apparently. This simple fact, gleaned from a radio program, suddenly put me at home in my species.’ As summer begins, Nancy embraces the challenge of how to live well in a space in which possessions and emotions often threaten to tumble. And as illness and uncertainty loom once more, it is this anchored van that will bring her solace and hope. Yet soon, Nancy’s encounters with the community of boaters moored nearby, and their lessons in survival off-grid, prove fundamental. The wasteland burgeons into a place of wild beauty, as Nancy works to clear industrial junk and create a forest garden. And as illness and uncertainty loom once more, it is these unconventional relationships, this anchored van, that will bring her solace and hope. Written in journal form, the book not only covers Nancy’s day to day life, it also introduces us to some fabulous characters such as Sven and the assassin, and includes wider research about the history and other facts concerning Oxford and the surrounding area. I have to say that Sven was portrayed as a wonderful person; I wish I had my own Sven in my life!Can a paralysed limb feel pain? Where did those big bruises keep coming from? The changes to Anna’s body were apparent, but what went through her mind? At times heartbreaking at others uplifting and life affirming. Thunderstone shows us how to find beauty all around us even under the most difficult circumstances, it asks the tough questions about how to live through the life's storms with authenticity. I do visit, and not just with laundry – but because after all we’ve been through together she’s my best friend. Throughout her book we are treated to poetic details on the impact of human activity on our nature spaces and how it is possible to live alongside peacefully. “As I’m falling asleep, I listen to the trains pass, making a banshee scream or a sound like a bullet that pierces the van. Sometimes in the hush that follows I catch another sound, a faint electronic sigh, as the points change. The trains make the wildness. Without the occasional scream and the shaking, I would not appreciate the silence and stillness.”

This is an engaging read about looking inwards, letting go, moving on, and pushing forward during the most difficult of times. We rejoice as Nancy embraces new challenges and asserts her independence as she works through her emotions. We see the healing power from immersing oneself in nature and the environment all around as Nancy not only survives but flourishes in her new life. Caring can be a lonely occupation at the best of times and, unaware of the support offered by organisations like Carers UK, I suffered in silence. Some mornings I am a vessel that has hairline fractures running through it — I have to hold my poise gently, to avoid all the pieces falling, to avoid spilling. The pain of being in the world is almost unbearable, at the same time as I want more than ever to hang on to life. In the last few years I have seen how swiftly everything can be snatched away.’ A beautiful and often very funny account of hope and healing in the face of illness and uncertainty.’ TLS Since that time Nancy has been appointed Canal Laureate by the Poetry Society and Canal & River Trust and, during her two-year tenure (2018-19), kayaked a significant amount of the 2000 miles of waterways, meeting those who lived and worked on them while gathering material for poems. Nancy’s CaravanI see something in Anna’s eyes I have missed, without realising it, for years…words are beginning to return…although some days they all disappear again. The mercurial nature of her language reminds me of the changeable character of circumpolar shores in winter.’ All of this, these small moments that amount to two lives being lived in newborn, quiet harmony, happens as the planet goes about it its unsettling, changing business ; ‘It was the hottest spring on record again.’

The howl hasn’t gone away…I realise with dread that this will be the work I do in the van, that grieving must take the place of other work for a while.’ Just glorious, brave, awe inspiring and, exactly as is said on the front cover of the book, it’s truly life-affirming.Nancy Campbell (poet) - United Kingdom - Poetry International". www.poetryinternational.org . Retrieved 1 June 2021. Anintimate journal across the span of a defining summer, Thunderstoneis a celebration of transformation; an invitation to approachlife with imagination and to embrace change bravely.

There are references to various artists and writers throughout, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I was particularly moved by her discussion of Denise Riley, whose work Time Lived, Without its Flow, about the aftermath of her son’s death was so important to so many folk I know who live in grief’s unknown, shifting landscape. I thought, over and over throughout Thunderstone, how important art is at times of sorrow, worry, grief, pain and so on. Nancy Campbell’s work has been such soothing balm for me at times; it feels good to know she has found comfort in the words of others, too. The other two shortlisted books were Edward Chisholm’s A Waiter in Paris (Monoray) and Thea Lenarduzzi’s Dandelions (Fitzcarraldo Editions). On the margins – Catalogue 2012, Doverodde Book Arts Festival IV". Issuu . Retrieved 18 October 2021.While living in a caravan may appear to be a carefree existence, Nancy does not romanticise it and tells us all about the problems she experienced, such as broken boilers and heaters and how making coffee nearly killed her. It’s true life stuff, no gloss. Campbell cares for her partner until the moment comes when they both know they must physically separate, and she must find a small stretch of land on which to place herself. All of this amid a severe Housing Crisis. Her new friend Sven asks ‘ What do you want with always moving from place to place? You need to settle down and get on with your life.’ The other than human is equally important on this healing journey as the human. Creatures play an exceptionally touching role in this book, always there to remind the reader of that world outside the caravan door; that world that keeps on keeping on, no matter what. The natural world is observed and recorded here with such delicate tenderness I wept at several lines, all out of nowhere. This one, for instance; ‘Cloudy. No sighting of the wren for days.’ It is not only the beautiful found stone of the title that plays a role in this book: objects of various kinds are important to her, their ‘ Familiar softness, rescued from boxes to remind me of distant places and people I love. I buy a new duvet cover…hang my storm lantern over the window.’