H is for Hawk by
Helen Macdonald was about the author training a goshawk after the recent death of her father and a creative and almost lyrically written book.
It's close to equal parts a meditation on grief and appreciation of the natural and wild world as the process of training her hawk, Mabel, closely intertwines with the loss she experienced. Macdonald became somewhat of a recluse during the training period and when about halfway through the book she wrote of Mabel that "she's forgotten how not to be scared of people," the author could have been writing of herself as well.
While I don't know I would call it a particularly enjoyable read, it was an impressive effort and felt to sum up well in the acknowledgments with Macdonald writing "I would like to thank my father who taught me how to love the moving world, and to thank my beautiful hawk who taught me how to fly in it after he was gone."
