""When people connect with nature, it happens somewhere," writes Bob Pyle. "My own point of intimate contact with the land was a ditch." The High Line Canal, originally built outside of Denver as part of an ambitious plan to bring water to eastern Colorado for irrigation, became the young Pyle's place of sanctuary and play, his birthplace as a naturalist, and the inspiration for his widely quoted concept of "the extinction of experience." An engrossing memoir and an eloquent portrait of place, "The Thunder Tree" reveals the deep relationship between people--especially children--and the natural world. For a new generation of readers, Pyle's environmental coming-of-age story offers a powerful argument for preserving opportunities to explore nature.
Robert Michael Pyle is a lepidopterist and a professional writer who has published twelve books and hundreds of papers, essays, stories and poems. He has a Ph.D. from the School of Forestry and Environmental Studies at Yale University. He founded the Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation in 1974. His acclaimed 1987 book Wintergreen describing the devastation caused by unrestrained logging in Washington's Willapa Hills near his adopted home was the winner of the 1987 John Burroughs Medal for Distinguished Nature Writing. His 1995 book Where Bigfoot Walks: Crossing the Dark Divide was the subject of a Guggenheim Fellowship.
This is a hard book to summarize. I think the different chapters work better as free-standing essays. Some of them waxed so eloquent I was in tears, and others I had to struggle to finish because I got mired in the plants, ecological relationships, and butterfly species Pyle describes. If you have an interest in Denver and its history or water use in the west, you’ll also like this, but I imagine that isn’t a huge group of readers.
It is an autobiographical work that combines personal stories about growing up in Aurora, CO in the 50’s & 60’s with a look at the importance of “wasteland” – specifically, the High Line Canal. If you want to know more about how children interact with nature, you HAVE to read the chapter called “The Extinction of Experience” – it is one of the best things on this I’ve ever read. It deserves to be reprinted somewhere with a much larger audience. So check this out, order it on amazon, skim through the parts that don’t grab you and then read the rest when you need to read something profound about the importance of place, parks, vacant lots, water courses, children’s play, or bugs.
To think that natural experiences like those Robert Pyle had are becoming extinct due to current social trends away from, resultant disinterest in, and lack of historical concern toward nature is distressful and deeply worrisome. Pyle's voice in this book both shares his own childhood natural experiences as well as brings up fundamental points in humans' problems of management and maintenance of these natural areas. It is a lovely, personal telling and borders on heartbreaking.
Having lived in Colorado for three years of my childhood, I feel lucky to be able to personally relate to Pyle's wonderment at the beauty of eastern [early urban] Colorado, and of nature itself. In chapter ten (p. 156) he describes the "artful habitat dioramas" at the Denver Museum of Natural History, which I too visited as a child. I've never forgotten the Denver museum and its intricate displays featuring the variety and beauty of Colorado's ecosystems.
I found this book to be tremendously inspiring, making me take yet another, longer, closer look at and into my environment. How can I help to preserve the few remaining wildlands around me, supporting and strengthening the variety of life native or introduced to these areas, and what can I do to encourage interest and wonder in others toward the appreciation of their surrounding world? Now, my intention is to find out.
Too often we jump in the car when we want to experience nature. In The Thundertree, Robert Pyle's powerful memoir about growing up near Denver's High Line Canal, he reminds us that nature is right outside our door, just waiting to be discovered. As we read how he bonded with the land, we are inspired to preserve open spaces so that all children will have the chance to discover them. Highly recommended.
Having lived hear the Highline Canal for more than 40 years, literally within a couple hundred feet of it for 31 years, I have walked our section, plus the even nearer Goldsmith Gulch, many, many times. I agree that it is fascinating, a much appreciated breath of Nature in the Denver suburbs. I was not even aware of this book until it was recommended by a friend, a fairly well known and perhaps even prominent naturalist I've known for even longer than the High Line. So I decided to try out the new pandemic procedures at the Denver Public Library and requested a copy.
To be honest, I was disappointed and abandoned it after the first two chapters. No doubt the rest would have been good and highly informative, but the sometimes florid and unnecessary arcane wording left my no doubt slow and common brain saying, "what?" There were frequent references to plants and animals including many apparent references to butterflies that would leave many less informed readers (including myself) in need of a dictionary or field guide. I know some people like that, but it seemed, just in my opinion, a slight bit snobbish. It seems to me that the attempt to achieve a kind of highfalutin literariness left me largely unimpressed, but that is likely just me and the style probably works well for others.
Nevertheless, I ploughed through the first two chapters. I gave up early in the third chapter, however, when the author described an incident in which he partook in water dowsing. Now, to be completely fair, he expressed some doubt as the to practice, but he mentioned a ridiculous idea by a Yale professor friend about the possibility of electromagnetic pulses between the dowsing wand and an underground stream that frankly was the last straw for me. It stained the rest of the book for me, so I abandoned it. Some will say I was wrong and too hasty. Perhaps so, but I chose to move on to other things.
Much of the book depends on a knowledge either of Colorado or of butterflies, neither of which I have. So that part did not mean much to me. Otherwise I would give this book a 4. But Pyle makes a strong case for preserving local nature and perhaps especially for the bits we tend to disregard. A heartfelt, personal book about love of nature.
I was doing a 14 week walk along the high line. the story does not efficiently follow the trail enough to match each week with a portion, but reading after or before the full hike can give some fun insight.
Lots of interesting stories, desire to save the canal, nature, and stop over population is a nice side effect in the book.
Finally finished this book a little while after finishing walking the whole high Line Canal.
A lovely meditation on the bygone history of the canal and its current status based on the time of writing. Lots of great historical detail w context for today’s readers and walkers
Maturalist Robert Michael Pyle as he explores Colorado’s High Line Canal and the water politics that shape the West. Moths and magpies along the canal provided enchantment for him as a young boy, but today water diversion worsens drought conditions. Charming and informative read.
Really enjoyed this one. Great history woven into a book about biophilia. Simple message. No matter where you are get out there and connect with a natural place. A vacant lot, a backyard tree, a grassy field, a stand of pines, a parkway. Get outside. Enjoy and connect with nature.
A wonderful series of essays about the High Line Canal, featuring some fascinating insight into the beginnings of the suburban lifestyle in Aurora. Many other environmental themes are woven through the pages that resonated with me, and made me wonder about my own preferences related to landscaping and water use.
This book is a must read for those who have grown up in Douglas County, or anywhere near the canal. The recollections and reflections of the author transform this waterway from an irrigation ditch into a magical habitat for a variety of creatures and plant life.
A friend and I recently had a conversation about whether or not Bob Pyle is the most important nature writer working in America today. Our conclusion was that if he's not, he's definitely one of the most important because his work breaks down the dangerous distinction between natural and non-natural by looking at wildness in urban settings. This book, which focuses around the High Line Canal in Denver, shows how much nature can be found in a supposedly non-natural urban setting.
I was surprised to find this book is written about a the High Line Canal in Denver, Colorado. Written in the introduction it is a "love song to damaged lands, serenade for all such places."
While nicely written, switching back and forth from personal anecdotes to information on issues about canals, dams and water rights, I wasn't able to stay with this book until the end. Perhaps, it is not the right time.
My friend challenged me to hike the entire Highline Canal in the winter of 2014-2015. Her friend, a retired Denver Water Department employee loaned us this book. Part reminiscences of a childhood before the video game age, part City of Aurora history, part instruction on cottonwoods and butterflies, it is a diverse book. I most enjoy "seeing" the canal through the author's eyes in the distant past and comparing it with my vision of the canal as I walk it now.
Absolutely fantastic. Advised to anyone who ever knew nature (and hopefully that is everyone.) I had a chance to meet Robert Pyle at a speaking, and he is a genuine and wonderful person. This is clear throughout the entirety of the book- he is very open and honest with his readers, and his book is beautifully crafted.
Looking back on his childhood the author describes how his childhood haunts were degraded due to habitat loss. Coupled with an often poignant personal narrative I found the author's account echoed my childhood experiences in many ways.
Right now it looks like I decided not to finish this book, given the huge amount of time since I started it. Not so - we moved in the interim and book is still lost in packing box hell.