Selected Essays and Articles
Wash of the West Branch
For Northern Woodlands
Each year that we run the West Branch of the Penobscot into the big lake, I think, this will be the last time.
Read on »
Bobcats on the Go
For Northern Woodlands
There comes a time in every mammal mother’s life when her young leave. For some, this comes in a matter of weeks, for others it might be years. As I follow bobcat tracks through snow on a mid-winter day, dispersal is on my mind. My 18-year-old son is preparing to fledge...
Read on »
Woodland Jumping Mice are Truffle Specialists
For Northern Woodlands
“Shhh,” I tell my 5-year-old son, “there are animals sleeping, right under our feet.” He presses his ear against the frozen ground, hoping to hear the slow, sleepy breath of a snoozing mammal.
Read on »
The Skinny on Voles
For Northern Woodlands
Bent down in an apple field searching for a lost earring, I found a different treasure: a stout mouse-like animal, with a short tail and stubby ears. It gave me one quick look, then disappeared through a maze of tunnels in the thick autumn grass.
Read on »
Backyard Naturalist: Open your eyes to the animal world around you
For the Monadnock Ledger-Transcript
We are kneeling in the snow on a cold winter’s day. Our mittens are off and my fourth grade students are running their fingers along the rippled paw prints of the red fox we’ve been following.
Read more »
The Disappearing, Reappearing American Marten
For Northern Woodlands
Some people keep lifelong birding lists. I’ve tried, but birds and I have never really hit it off. Too many colors, too many species, and I'm tone deaf, so birding by ear is completely beyond me. I do keep a lifelong weasel list.
Read on »
Snow Spiders: Rule Breakers
For Northern Woodlands
I have always admired nature’s mutineers: animals and plants that thwart the recognized system and do their own thing.
Read on »
Backyard Naturalist: Gifts from the Christmas bird count
For the Monadnock Ledger-Transcript
I’m not a birder and in fact bird watching intimidates me. The field is filled with experts who can identify a bird by the very first breath of a whistle or chirp.
Read on »
From Yips to Shrieks, Fox Talk Runs the Gamut
For Northern Woodlands
Sometimes it pays to be an insomniac. One frigid winter night, I climbed out of my restless bed and slipped outside to stand under a sky littered with stars and take in the complete silence of darkness.
Read on »
Nuts for Acorns
For Northern Woodlands Magazine
Tucked behind a stonewall on the edge of a hardwood forest, my six-year-old students and I spy on an Eastern gray squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis) as it climbs out of a tree cavity and scurries down to the ground.
Read on »
Mammoths!
For Northern Woodlands Magazine
I fall in love easy. I’ve been mad about river otters and star-nosed moles, and of course the venomous short-tailed shrew. But my first love was a creature that is almost mythical, a shadow lingering on the edges of time.
Read on »
Touched by Touch
For the Monadnock Ledger-Transcript
I’m standing on the edge of Cynthia’s Pond, a beautiful swamp near the Harris Center. I have 12 kids with me, armed with nets, strainers, containers and rubber boots. On this day our buckets are teeming with our catch: dragonfly nymphs, water boatmen, an enormous giant water bug, and countless leeches.
Read on »
Tapestry of Light
For Northern Woodlands Magazine
I’ve taken to wandering the night lately–one of the pleasures of having a puppy. Willow, my pup, and I walk at all hours,from twilight to midnight and into the shadowy early morning.
Read on »
Sliding Shenanigans
For Northern Woodlands Magazine
I have been living with an otter. He’s long and sleek, a graceful swimmer with an insatiable appetite for fish. At first he was just my boy, a chubby little toddler, happy to snuggle and follow his big sister around.
Read on »
Coyotes Prepare for Winter
For Northern Woodlands Magazine
Eight years ago, my husband and I planted 128 fruit trees on a hillside, mostly apples, but the back few rows included stone fruits. Our apples began producing with gusto after only a few years.
Read on »
Everyday Animals, Or Why Not Kiss a Worm
For Minding Nature
Let’s Be Chickadees. Pshht, pshht, pshht we call as we sit on the frozen ground so close to one another that we can feel the cold spray of our neighbor’s pshht. In the distance I had heard a few black capped chickadees and gathered the group to try our luck at calling them closer.
Read on »