Exerting control over their environment is frequently cited as one of the distinguishing characteristics of the human race. Chris Powici knows better. Human beings do crop up in his poems, here and there, but they’re largely dwarfed by the elemental enormity of the natural world. They’re not there to lord over it but to observe and, if they’re lucky, to catch glimpses through the landscape of something greater than themselves. Inspired by the Perthshire countryside in which he lives, these poems capture Powici’s wonder, reverence and comradely affection for the wildlife of Scotland. Otters, deer, geese, cows, bullocks, wild or domesticated, Powici is entranced by them all: their habits, their instinctiveness and their connection, perhaps, with something higher. Others might waffle on for stanza after breathless stanza about the beauty and grandeur of it all. Powici, however, is always concise, bringing an almost urban terseness out into the wilds and ensuring that his poems never outstay their welcome.