An unforgettable celebration of life, a hymn to the land and a meditation on the memory and dreams of youth.

To be invited to walk beside a dying man, a good man, to be asked into his mind as its existence is counted down, to be offered his gaze into the abyss, to know another soul in the honesty of the deathbed. A privilege.

Here is a moving and unusual memoir by Michael Pascoe about his relationship with Jim, his friend since boarding school in Queensland, as he faces up to terminal illness. We see a group of friends as they meet occasionally to talk about their shared youth and their mortality. Eloquent, profound—and sometimes funny, as mates can be with one another—these encounters, as well as Michael and Jim's correspondence about living, dying, memory and family—will resonate deeply with listeners.

The narrative is also a reflection on the author's own story from son of a country cop to one of Australia's best-known journalists, taking the listener on a journey—both literal and metaphorical—as he drives north in his beloved Alfa Romeo, exploring along the way what it means to be a son and a father, how one ages and deals with one's own mortality.

We were just boys, forming bonds we didn't know existed until we dared reach for them and found them strong.