Let's talk wildlife coexistence. It’s the holy grail of conservation, and the one I keep chasing, even when it feels just out of reach.

We talk a lot about “saving wolves,” but honestly? What I want is space. For all of it. The wolves. The prey. The rivers. The people. That delicate tension where everything gets to exist, not perfectly, but enough.

And here’s the wild part: sometimes, it’s not the apex predators that show us the biggest shifts. It’s the little ones, like rodents and dam-builders.

Last week, I checked our data and nearly cried. Out of necessity, our small, fictional pack had to shift its diet. Fewer moose and deer. More beaver.

That may sound minor, but it’s everything. It means they’re adapting. Just like the wolves in Voyageurs.

And if they keep choosing beaver? That could mean fewer livestock complaints. More deer and moose left for sustenance hunters, the kind who live here, not fly in.

It’s a glimpse of longer-term balance. It’s proof that wolves don’t have to be painted as villains to survive.

And beavers? They go both ways, ecologically, I mean.
So, calm down and open your mind.

Beavers reshape land one stick at a time. They slow streams. Create ponds. Invite frogs and birds and all the things we forget we’re losing.

And when they move out? Open meadows return, hosting a whole new cast of plants and animals. They’re ecosystem drivers in both directions.

But here’s the part I love most: Beaver shifts don’t spark lawsuits or headlines. No panic. No propaganda. Just quiet resilience that ripples out like water behind a dam.

This kind of shift is rare. It’s hopeful. It’s proof that when we step back and let nature do its thing, sometimes, it figures out how to live alongside us.

~ Jess Taylor~ The Wolfer's Daughter

The Wolfer's Daughter is available for free on digital in preview, starting 7/24 for the weekend.

The paperback on coming July 25
Set in the remote Adirondacks, where wolves have returned after a century-long absence, "The Wolfer's Daughter" is a chilling and darkly humorous story rooted in real-world conservation, identity, and the blurry lines between what we love and what we fear.