WOAH Bookshelf

This is the story of Paula Whyman, who dreamed of a place in the country. A place where she knew she would feel most at peace. Then she began dreaming of establishing a native meadow wherever she
ended up and when she began looking in earnest, found over 200 acres
on a mountain. Some of it was rolling open meadows, formerly a cow pasture, and steep sloping forests. And all of it in need of some TLC. Suddenly, she wanted not just a native meadow, but wanted to make a true difference in nature. She began planning to restore this mountaintop to its native glory and beauty and this book is the story of that dream. What Whyman finds is lots of nonnative plants and discovers that removing those plants sometimes creates even more
problems. She is beset with contradicting advice from well -meaning folks with differing views on land management and has to make tough decisions about whether to use herbicides, bush hogging, fire and till or no till methods to reduce invasive species and reintroduce native
species. Where to begin? I think I really liked this book because I, too, have a lot of acreage (but not quite that much!) and feel constantly overwhelmed by the “to do” lists–meanwhile watching an invasive species cover more and more ground, literally! Whyman addresses this problem honestly and she certainly does her research. Starting and restarting, learning along the way, changing attitudes–Whyman relates through her own experience that all of these aspects of land restoration should be expected and embraced. And patience. Most of all patience.
Apparently Whyman’s project is still going strong and now she lives and writes on her dream property while she actively manages it. While not a how to book, Bad Naturalist is an impressive bit of storytelling which weaves her journey in getting to know her land with very readable bits of ecology and descriptions of land stewardship. Her dedication and willingness to laugh at herself give me hope that it CAN be done. And more importantly, should be.

Most of you know Dick and Gail Olson as past presidents and active members of WOAH as well as Master Gardeners and Master Naturalists. They are also avid readers of everything gardening and natural world so they now provide us with some insight on a new book into the world of plants that we may not typically perceive. I have read books about adjacent trees being connected through their roots and plants warding off insect attacks by increasing the level of tannins in their leaves, but this book tells a much broader story of how plants can show a range of behaviors previously unknown. The author is a staff writer for the Atlantic. Although not a scientist, she spent several years researching plant behavior for this book after wanting a new focus other than climate change stories. She describes a variety of studies throughout the world, the scientists themselves, and often her own reaction to these amazing discoveries. It is a fascinating book about how plants have developed unique capabilities to adapt and thrive. All aspects of her story were captivating to Gail and me because of our passion for plants and my career as an environmental scientist. Every chapter divulges another behavior being observed, such as plants communicating threats of predator insects or roots selecting the best underground path. One of Gail’s favorite chapters describes how a vine in Peru can change its leaf shapes to blend in with the plant it is growing on. Often researchers don’t understand how plants perform these feats, and their results are routinely challenged by fellow scientists. To me, Schlanger’s observations of the scientific process were intriguing.

Scientists struggling to develop a vocabulary that captures plant behavior such as reporting that plants can sense objects without saying they have “eyes” as we think of them. Or ways plants respond to changing conditions in an “intelligent” way. She explores these mysteries in a way that is understandable and enthusiastic. There may be much more to learn about plant behavior, but the author conveys a compelling story of how we can appreciate them in new ways, not just as inanimate objects we depend on and enjoy.

Twelve trees. Twelve stories. Twelve highly informative and eticulously researched chapters about how climate change, humanity and history have shaped the future of these trees, and of us. Twelve Trees is about some species of trees that need our help to survive. It explores their importance to their ecosystems, natural diversity and yes, cultural history. The book explains why they are important to OUR survival. A few of the trees will be familiar to those of us interested in native plantings. Some will be new to us. But each has had a deep impact on the earth and the people who live in the same habitat. I especially like this quotation: “Trees are our custodians, forecasters, and predictors in an era of changing climates. They protect the ground beneath us through their stabilizing and bio diversifying effects. They lower our pulses and deepen our breath. (They) are powerful actors on our environment. In their total biomass they provide nearly bottomless carbon sinks, annually sequestering millions of tons of carbon dioxide . . . “ This book is full of interesting cultural information, scientific studies and statistics and hope. Hope. That’s what these trees need from us the most. I highly recommend Twelve Trees.

For some folks, nothing is more telling of the changing of the season than spring peepers, those tiny little frogs with a big, big sound. In fact, frog mating calls are in a distinct phenological pattern–wood frogs in February and March, peepers in March through May, gray tree frogs in May through July and on and on. Just like plants, frogs do their reproducing on a biologically determined timeline, which rarely varies. (Except due to climate change, which is a whole other subject!) So, what are you hearing out there? The Guide to the Frogs and Toads of Virginia is a comprehensive guide to the ecology, distribution, and behavior of Virginia’s frogs and toads. It’ll work for eastern Tennessee, too. It’s full of interesting facts and is an excellent identification guide with range, habitat and behavior of each species. There is also a section on amphibian conservation and information concerning species with limited or endangered populations. This paperback booklet is available from the Department of Wildlife Resources (DWR) for $16.95 at https://dwr.virginia.gov/shopdwr/

The World is alive with wonder from the first rays of light as they break over the horizon. This ode to nature uses single words and images to help the reader slow down and notice, appreciate and love the nature around us. What we love, we want to take care of.

Most Wild Ones members will recognize the author of this picture book as the bestselling author of Braiding Sweetgrass, Gathering Moss and The Service Berry. Our main character, Bud, notices people staying busy and doing “important things.” She wonders what she can do that was just as important.” But Nokomis, her grandmother, shows her how to slow down, look, listen, taste, touch and hear the natural world. Bud begins to notice the connections nature around her and realizes she has something important to do. And one of those things is to plant a pollinator garden to benefit those connections.

This is a book of “Cento” poetry, which strings together lines from other poems. Images from the likes of Mary Oliver, Robert Frost, Emily Dickenson, Walt Whitman and many others are woven into a story of forest wandering, wondering and love for nature. The illustrations are rich and impressionistic, lending to the overall majestic feel of this lovely picture book for children (and adults!)

Synchronous fireflies were once thought to only exist outside of North America, until young Lynn notices them in what eventually becomes Great Smoky Mountain State Park. No one pays attention, so she takes matters into her own hands and spends her life studying fireflies, researching them and finally proving what she has always known. There are miracles right here in our mountains. This book contains great information on creating habitat for lightning bugs, including leaving your lawn unmowed and planting natives, especially grasses, to provide habitats for these magic critters of the night.

Raising Hare, by Chloe Dalton, is one of those books that sticks with you long after you put it down. For one thing, you’re going to learn a lot about hares. The author suddenly finds herself the custodian of a newborn leveret, a baby hare, and must learn how to help it survive while preparing it to return to the wild. The descriptive language, astute observations involving all the senses, and the impacts on her emotions and daily life really make the reader slow down and take notice. Which is what nature needs us to do, right? There have been several animal relationship books that are truly remarkable. Marley and Me by Jim Grogan, H is for Hawk by Helen McDonald and How to Be a Good Creature by Sy Montgomery come to mind (and I recommend them all!). But what makes Raising Hare “WOAH worthy?” It is Dalton’s immediate realization that interactions with the natural world are inevitable, but can be minimized with careful consideration of the relevance of habitat availability and natural community. Dalton tries her utmost, and I think succeeds, in minimizing her impact on the hare and lets the hare take the lead in their relationship. As a result, the hare remains wild and brings to Dalton important life lessons, such as awe for nature, hope for the future, and the wisdom of conforming to natural rhythms and states of being. From traffic concerns to noisy farm machinery to lighting at night to gardening practices, it all has an impact. What is amazing is how adaptable this hare really is, to the point that the animal incorporates Dalton’s house and garden (and Dalton herself) as part of its daily wild routine As WOAH members, we are all concerned with our impact on the natural world. Why else would we want to create native habitat with native plantings? Raising Hare gives you a carefully considered look at the benefits of bringing the natural world closer to us, so that we can learn and benefit, too.

Sometimes Facebook does you a favor, like when a few months ago someone posted a link to one of Margaret Renkl’s New York Times opinion pieces. I clicked, read, and had to dig for more. The more I read her, and about her, the more connection I felt with her. Red dirt Alabama roots, Auburn University, grandmothers who gardened, love of woods, and observing what happens as one slowly shifts a subdivision lot into a real habitat.

The Comfort of Crows is Renkl’s third book, and I confess I haven’t read it through yet. It’s organized with weekly essays by season, with so much joy in each that I refuse to rush to spring and summer. They’ll be waiting for me. The book is a gorgeous collaboration between Margaret’s words and her brother Billy’s paintings and collages. Her backyard must be what many of us yearn to create and live with. Margaret’s observations focus attention on the tiny critters that overwinter in leaf litter, other critters that subsist on them, and all the next levels of critters that dine on those and on the native plants they evolved with. She shares her dismay with proliferation of lawns around her neighborhood, and sadness as foxes, raccoons, and opossums are left with less shelter and food. Her writing welcomes you into her own appreciation and stewardship of the marvelous natural web that indeed has a place for crows.

Go buy this book because you’ll want to take your time with Margaret’s backyard world and Billy’s exquisite illustrations!

My daughter recommended this book to me, and I usually listen when she’s excited about a book! It was on her reading list for an environmental literature course at Virginia Tech while she was working on her M.A. She was passionate about it, and, having read it, I am too!

We joined Wild Ones because we believe that even the small things we do make a difference. That’s why we share our seeds and plants and nurture them in our home landscapes. In Braiding Sweetgrass, we not only find someone who shares the conviction that what we do matters, but we meet someone who has spent her life in personal and academic pursuit of wholeness in her relationship with the natural world. This book—the story of her search for health in a damaged world—provides an example and a challenge for readers to enter a deeper and more reverent relationship with the Earth. Her writing is informative and inspiring. It is just the very thing we need at exactly this moment: hope and encouragement.

In this book you’ll read indigenous stories, personal memoir, and descriptions of natural processes in natural places. You’ll read her reflections, analyses, and critiques on everything from conventional science and citizenship to economics. If you haven’t already read Braiding Sweetgrass, consider adding it to your New Year’s reading list!

We plant natives because we know the importance of preserving the interconnectedness of life. We understand that co-evolution of flora and fauna is the process that creates the diversity that is so important to our planet’s (and our!) survival.

From microbes in the soil to the stately oak that harbors so much life, each living thing matters to the other. The Forest Unseen: A Year’s Watch in Nature by David George Haskell will transport you to a deeper understanding of how intricate, and fascinating, these connections really are. Haskell visited a one-square-meter patch of old growth southeastern Tennessee forest several times per week for an entire year. His observations are written with a sensitive, thoughtful and scientific eye, describing what he finds, week by week, month by month, season by season.

The information he imparts is both powerful and eye-opening. I never knew I could care about the questing of ticks or be amazed at a horsehair worm turning a cricket into a zombie or cheer on the ants that plant our spring ephemerals as they feed their colonies. Haskell’s prose will draw you in with intimate details of this web of life. Yet, all this science is presented by Haskell in what has been described as “poetic” and “lyrical.” The information is well researched and detailed, but it reads like a well-written novel. Originally published in 2012 by Penguin Books, The Forest Unseen is still available through online purchase or check your local library.

It’s no wonder the community of native plant enthusiasts is abuzz with this author’s name. With this book and others, in interviews and presentations, through active advocacy, and as co-founder of Homegrown National Park, he’s making the powerful case that, collectively, we can make a huge difference in our world by choosing native plants over nonnative ones in our home environments.

In the book’s preface, Tallamy writes of a concept “so close to our noses we could not see it.” The notion that humans can begin reversing the habitat loss we’ve caused for the wildlife we’ve displaced by planting native plants is just such a concept. He is passionate and articulate in expressing the urgency for action. He’s effective at connecting readers to the science and ecology underpinning his call to action. And, the book is beautifully
illustrated with sharp, colorful photographs that express the wonder, beauty, and joy that arises from making space for nature in our home landscapes.

Here’s a link to: Homegrown National Park (https://homegrownnationalpark.org/) and one to an article on Tallamy in The Smithsonian (https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-
nature/meet-ecologist-who-wants-unleash-wild-backyard-180974372/).

If you haven’t yet, catch up with Doug Tallamy!

Did you know that April is National Poetry Month and that April 18th is Poem in your Pocket Day? You can find out more about that here: https://poets.org/national-poetry-month, but I thought it would be a good idea to share the title of a volume from a poet who, I think, is one of the most perceptive and affecting nature writers, Richard Wilbur.

Not all the poems in this collection are about nature. They’re not even all by him: some are his translations of other poets’ work. But I think you will respond to the way Wilbur’s writing is rooted in the senses—shape, color, smell, touch, sound. Often, even when he’s not writing about the natural world, he still makes his subjects tangible through association with plants, animals, forests, wind, and water. Some of his poems work the other way, too, by reminding us of human consciousness and rootedness in nature.

Perhaps a good example comes from “Zea”. Here are a few short stanzas from the end of the poem:

Later there are days
Full of bare expectancy
Downcast hues and haze,
Days of an utter
Calm, in which one white corn leaf,
Oddly aflutter
Its fabric sheathing
A gaunt stem, can seem to be
The sole thing breathing.

Have a poem in your pocket on April 18th!

Many of you already recognize Bill McKibben as a writer who, early in the movement to address Climate Change, bring the urgent predictions of climate science to a popular audience. He famously authored The End of Nature and was a founding creator of 350.org. This space is typically devoted more specifically to nature appreciation and native plant issues, but I believe it is appropriate for Wild Ones to consider how our efforts mesh with fighting the crisis we face in global warming. What better way than to dive deeply into current (well, the copyright date is 2011) climate data.

You will learn from the first half of the book that the situation we face is extremely dire. To explain what may seem to be an odd title, or even a typo on the cover page of a book by a major publisher, McKibben argues that we no longer live on the same planet on which most of us were born, Earth, the planet with a climate that was remarkably stable for something like 10,000 years, the period during which atmospheric carbon dioxide levels were stable at 275 parts per million. It certainly shatters one’s worldview to face the grim statistics you will encounter here, but it is irresponsible to ignore them.

The second half of the book explores, with a measure of hope, the ways our culture must adapt to life on Eaarth. Everything will need to be decentralized—renewable energy generation, food production. Solutions to meeting life’s most basic needs will necessarily become local (think town and neighborhood), even hyperlocal (think home and yard). I don’t recall that McKibben envisioned solutions for how to meet the needs of people globally displaced climate refugees, a problem necessarily requiring solutions involving national governments and international agencies.

It’s almost unutterably sad to think that if we had undertaken sooner some of the work that will be required for human survival on Eaarth, we might have enjoyed a longer, richer life on Earth with more of our nonhuman fellow passengers.

https://billmckibben.com/eaarth/eaarthbook.html

The man who has brought the science of native plants into our everyday lives has hit home again with The Nature of Oaks, a lovely addition to his other best sellers, Nature’s Best Hope and Bringing Nature Home. Focusing on a single genus, Quercus (the oaks), Tallamy begins in
October (because “that was when I decided to write this book“) and then proceeds month by month for an entire year of oak biology, phenology, and the diverse ecology an oak tree brings to any setting.

An oak tree is more than just acorns. Way more. In addition to providing the mast that is an important food source for many native species, an oak creates an entire habitat of its own to support thousands of insect lives, which in turn support hundreds of birds, and so on. Even the
dead leaves create the all important layer of habitat on the ground, and the root system may grow 10 times more mass than the tree we can see!

As is typical of all Doug Tallamy’s works, the science he presents is well researched (often by himself and his students) and is written as readable as a novel. The reader gets to know the tree he and his wife planted himself, and around which this “story” is told, and by the second
chapter, I had plans to create my own oak forest. I bet you will, too.

The reader leaves this book not only feeling an affinity for this stately tree and all its kin, but with a better understanding of the intricate processes which create a healthy, diverse habitat.

It isn’t often that we are able to offer a free digital version of the book we review, but this one is available here: A Guide to Gardening with Southwest Virginia Native Plants.

There is attention to seasonality, moisture and light requirements, canopy position, and soil characteristics in each case, with specific plant recommendations. The editors don’t stop there; they provide you with practical how-to advice and the reasons doing what they advise.
The heart of the book is its 75 pages of plant profiles, which are divided into 6 categories: forbs, ferns, grasses, vines, shrubs, and trees. Each profile includes a verbal description, a beautiful color photograph, scientific and common names, soil requirements, and graphics that
provide at-a-glance information on bloom period, light and moisture needs, size, and ecosystem benefits. My wife, who is no novice gardener, has found enough usefulness in this book to justify hours of study. She’s used it for planning, browsing, and for improving her
familiarity with what’s native in our region.

The design of this guidebook deserves praise, too. It uses color, headings, and graphics to facilitate use; the Table of Contents in the front and the Index in the back will save you time when you’re looking for specific information; and the bits of text selected for featuring are
thoughtfully chosen and effectively spotlighted.

While there was a limited printing of this publication, it was always the intention that the primary form of access be digital, so click on the link above, and welcome to gardening with southwestern Virginia native plants!

From my first days in Forestry, I’ve encountered this book: Friends treasured it, and professors assigned readings from it. When I met the woman I would marry, I found that it always lay somewhere close at hand on a bedside stand or a living room table. Herself a retired forester, it’s one of the books she most often gives as a gift. People who care about land management and conserving resources care deeply about this book!

It was first published in 1949 by Oxford University Press. There are more than 2 million copies in print, and (for the polyglot) you can read it in any of 14 different languages. It’s a book that inspired many early environmentalists and profoundly shaped the course of the movement.
The first major section of the book is structured like a journal, beginning with January, working its way through the months of a year, with an essay (or 2, 3, or even 4) per month. In each one Leopold vividly
and closely describes an encounter with the natural world of his family’s 120-acre home on the Wisconsin River. These interactions become springboards for commentary, philosophy, and biology instruction by a
writer whose career included, after graduating from Yale Forestry School, work with the U.S. Forest Service, teaching at the University of Wisconsin, and founding their Department of Wildlife Ecology. Leopold’s writing is so captivating and persuasive that the reader becomes hungry for the same kinds of experiences he describes. When Leopold describes the mating ritual of the woodcock in his “Sky Dance” essay from the month of April, you are inspired to scout out your own “amphitheater in woods or brush,” where “in its center there must be a mossy spot, a streak of sterile sand, a bare outcrop of rock, or a bare roadway.” The author tells you exactly what time to be there on the first warm evening in April and every evening afterward until June 1st. He tells you, too, what you’ll hear (peenting) and what you’ll see: “[T]he bird flutters skyward in a series of wide spirals, emitting a musical twitter. Up and up he goes, the spirals steeper and smaller, the twittering louder and louder, until the performer is only a speck in the sky. Then without warning, he tumbles like a crippled plane, giving voice in a soft liquid warble that a March bluebird might envy.” It’s writing that
insists what’s happening outside is better than what’s happening inside: See it; love it; treasure it!

The copy of Sand County we have in our home has an introduction by Robert Finch (though I also want to see what Barbara Kingsolver writes in her introduction to the 75th anniversary edition). Finch describes the first of remaining two sections as possessing “an important change of tone, perspective and intent” with “language more elevated and less personal.” It’s in this section that Leopold’s message becomes urgent and serious as he contemplates humankind’s impact on the natural world and how are actions can be reformed. Finch describes the final section of the book as a culmination of Leopold’s environmental thinking in the shape of “brave public statements, directly addressing many of the political, cultural, social, and educational issues” … “for nothing less than a fundamental reform in our relationship with the land.”

This book is not just interesting and enjoyable to read; it’s important! You’ll be surprised by the connections you make between Sand County Almanac and other nature and environmental writing and
speaking you read and hear. It’s been that influential!

This book has been sitting on my bookshelf for I don’t know how long. I’m not even sure where I got it, but there it was when I needed something new for inspiration during breaks from battling Johnson grass and dallis grass to make room for native meadow plants in my side yard. I’ve been doing this mechanically with a pickax, so it’s been slow and tedious work. It’s been a real pick-me-up to dip into the text and thumb through the pictures of this informational and beautifully photographed book.

The book is authored by senior staff from Xerces in collaboration with a San Francisco State University biology professor, so the reader feels from the outset that passion for the topic combines with authoritative information to result in a guidebook that will make a difference in preserving pollinators. They divide the book into four main sections: Pollinators and Pollination, Taking Action, Bees of North America, and Creating a Pollinator Friendly-Friendly Landscape.

Pollinators and Pollination is the section that will build your basic knowledge about pollinators—why you should care, plant and insect biology, and how modern land use practices disrupt pollinator populations. Taking Action involves the how-to, nuts and bolts of how to apply what you’ve learned about plants and pollinators to actually manage your landscape encourage native pollinator species. WOAH members will be heartened to read that the first of four conditions to “support the greatest variety and abundance of pollinators” is “a diversity of plants, preferably native!” This section provides concrete advice for how to improve nearly every category of land use to make them more habitable for pollinators: which plant species to plant, site preparation, maintenance. The third section makes explicit the Xerces Society’s focus on native bee species. Even in the book’s preface, there is the explanation that, unlike butterflies, resources on native
bees haven’t been widely available to the public and that conservation methods for native bees will benefit other pollinators. So, it’s here, in the Bees of North America section, that you’ll find in-depth profiles of bee genera, along with nice photographs. You’ll get enough information to identify most bees to the genus level. The final section Attracting Native Pollinators is a collection of resources—diagrams of ways that different settings can be planted as pollinator gardens, regional plant lists, plant profiles for species that can be used as pollen and nectar providers, and butterfly host plants.

My first encounter with the Xerces Society was during the 2017 Earth Day March for Science in Washington D.C. Their demonstrators were eye-catchingly dressed as bumblebees and the signs they carried warned of a pollinator crisis, of which I was not then aware. But I paid attention, as I continue to pay attention to information on pollinators that is increasingly in the news and included in the broadening concerns of organizations like ours. Attracting Native Pollinators, because it will help tune my eyes, ears, and mind to a bustling and buzzing world of essential action, will make my native plantings even more interesting and important to me than they were!

You can find out more about the Xerces Society here: https://www.xerces.org/

Many of us have read and loved Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass, but perhaps are not as familiar with her earlier work, Gathering Moss. It isn’t a large book, less than 200 pages, with 20 chapters and numerous beautiful botanical drawings. I read Gathering Moss a few years ago and needed to pick it up again to write this review.

And…wow! The chapter called, “A Landscape of Change,” could have been written about our own southern Appalachian forests following the forces of hurricane Helene two weeks ago. Kimmerer tells of hunkering down with her children in their cabin as a massive microburst smashed through the Adirondacks in 1996. That chapter is a mini-course in northern hardwood forest succession through gap dynamics—and then translates down to the scale of moss colonies!

There is plenty of scientific detail about the varieties of moss species (22,000 worldwide), their minute structural components, habitat requirements, reproductive strategies, competition, cooperation, and their roles in supplying the needs of thousands of other species. It takes some concentration to appreciate that. But interspersed with science are stories that bring home just how connected we are with this minute, all but ignored, layer of life.

These stories are built on a foundation of tiny plants that have no common names. “Mosses don’t usually have common names, for no one has bothered with them.” But also, “In indigenous ways of knowing, all beings are recognized as non-human persons, and all have their own names.” Each chapter offers a story from Kimmerer’s perspective as researcher, teacher, investigator, indigenous seeker of relationships with non-human and human persons, and as a mother raising children to know and respect wild and mossy environments.

Kimmerer lets us know that there is knowledge waiting to be learned: “There is more living carbon in Sphagnum moss than in any other single genus on the planet.” And who remembers, or knew, about boundary layers? Where air movement right at the ground’s surface is stilled, where warmth from sunlight persists, where water vapor evaporating from logs and other surfaces is captured. And that decaying organic matter releases CO2, the raw material of photosynthesis. So the canopy gaps, whether at the height of mature forest trees or at the level of miniscule mosses, allow for change in species that occupy those spaces, and life goes on. In changed form perhaps, but life. An important piece of news for us, as we view our own blasted forest landscapes and altered river courses.

It’s good reading. Good science and good storytelling, as we expect from Robin Wall Kimmerer. And stay tuned for her next book coming out in November: The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World. (I can hardly wait!)