This Is How a Robin Drinks: Essays on Urban Nature

by Joanna Brichetto

Nature isn't only right outside our door. Sometimes it's on the door or comes inside to find us. Nature is the jumping spider on the screen, the assassin bug in the shower, and the cluster of ladybugs at the lamp. It is the moss on brick where gutters spill, a sycamore sprout in the storm drain, and the trash can lid turned into a bird bath. Joanna Brichetto is a neurodiverse, late-blooming naturalist with a sharp eye. Despite having chronic illnesses, she spends much of her time exploring nature and has an infectious, almost zealous love for the flora and fauna near and in her Nashville home. In This Is How a Robin Drinks , Brichetto weaves observation, reflection, and commentary with unsentimental wit and an earthy humor into an urban almanac of fifty-two short lyrical essays. Each piece offers a sketch of everyday marvels without trying to assign symbolism or deeper meaning. Nature is the dead sparrow in the pickup line at the elementary school, a full moon over the electric substation, and the cicada chorus that doesn't make a days-long migraine any better (but doesn't make it any worse either). Nature is under our feet, over our heads, and beside us--the very places we need to know first. Arranged by season, the pieces in this collection celebrate nature--just as it is--on the sidewalk and in the backyard, the park, and the parking lot.

Genres: Nature, Nonfiction, Essays, Science, Adult, Memoir, Gardening

238 pages, Paperback

First published September 24, 2024

Reviews

[Holly · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the book for me! Some similarities to books by Margaret Renkl (who the author is friends with, I think) but grittier, with sass and a few cuss words. Joanna Brichetto is an evangelist for giving wildlife every chance to survive and thrive, and I love her stories about her daily life in urban Nashville. She pays attention to it all--plants, trees, animals, insects--and trash! Her description of cedar glades makes me want to take a drive down there and see one in person. And the story of her rescuing a dragonfly in a Goodwill store made me smile, as my husband thinks I'm weird when I help bugs find their way out of our house. I love the anecdotal, short chapters, so I could read one or two or three while eating breakfast (depending on if I was running late or not). Just loved it. I'm starting a master naturalist course in February, and my goal is to be like Joanna. I'm so grateful for the inspiration I found here.

[Haley Williamson · Rating 5 out of 5]

6 stars. I have just never read anything quite like this. Loved every second of it and gave me some 2025 goals of knowing my city differently & deeper.

[Naturegirl · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a welcoming invitation to observe the world around us. Joanna has the audacity to see beauty in the ignored, to be excited by the small and unassuming, and to be overjoyed by the simplicity of tossing samaras into the air. Like Margaret Renkl's Comfort of Crows, this book implores one to take notice through simple stories in praise of the nature that exists around us, in our cities, in our yards, in metro parks. I was brought back to my years in Nashville, marveling at the wonder that is Warner Parks, learning from the dedicated volunteers on the bird banding team. These stories are a love letter to Nashville and all the nature that exists within the ever expanding city. And Joanna's enthusiasm and appreciation for every little thing is inspiringly infectious. One can't help but appreciate the aphid's place in the food chain, the merits of the besmirched hackberry tree, and the collection of leaves, sticks, and bones that serve as teachers for the world around us. These pages make one want to taste a sourwood and look just a bit deeper at the world around us.

[Kathleen · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thought I'd read this as the year progressed (it's laid out in calendar essays) but couldn't hold back. She's u for an award, I hear! Great work, esp. if you live in the southeast.

[Marty · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lovely book. Beautiful descriptions. Knowledgeable author. We all need to pay attention to the nature all around us, even in urban settings, and do what we can to preserve it. I will always remember the image of how a robin drinks. (But I will have to wait until spring to observe it myself)

[Sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Essays reminding us that nature is right outside our door (and sometimes indoors) as a nonstop wonder and our most reliable companion." Inspiring and beautifully written with an enjoyable wit. One of my favorite quotes from the book: "There is room for a thing to be astonishing and mundane at the same time."

[Cynthia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Engaging essays on the wildlife we live with, the plants and animals all around us, especially if we live in an urban area.

[Sarah B · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a collection of a bunch of short little essays of the author's own personal experience with nature. The stories cover a wild range, from trees to insects, from butterflies to ticks, from spotting cool leaf shapes on the sidewalk to the dismay that a favorite tree was cut down. In many of these tales she is disappointed that others don't share her love for the natural world around them.

As with any collection of stories, I liked some better than others. And this book made me Google plant or tree names (and other names too) so I could better understand what she was talking about. Like I was unsure what a sycamore ball was - even if they grow here. I certainly have collected a few of the spikey round balls without knowing what they were.

For whatever reason some of these little short writings just didn't hold my interest very well. I suppose in part because I just couldn't relate to it? The author lives in Nashville TN while I am in Wisconsin. I cannot imagine walking down a street in winter here to find fresh figs hanging from branches. That is just too bizarre. Everything is frozen and "dead" here, sleeping. Or is under snow. The author did mention 15 F in one segment but I am unsure if that was just freak weather or if that was the normal winter temperature? I am guessing it was freak. Due to those figs.

I did learn new things from this book. I had no idea that robins built nests from mud. Or that gingko trees ever got fruit on them. I know a street in my city where there are a few of those gingko trees ... Only seen leaves on the ground under them in autumn. By what the author says that might be a lucky thing.

Some of the tales are shocking. Did she truly eat hackberries off the sidewalk with her dog?? Ummm... Is it safe to eat stuff off the sidewalk??? I see the horses drinking water out of a pond too at the ranch I go to (because they have bacteria in their gut that allows them to do that).. makes me wonder if one needs special gut bacteria to eat berries off a sidewalk.

She also mentioned ticks. She is a tick magnet. Makes me ponder why? That story was actually very alarming and scary. The sheer number of ticks she gets is a nightmare! Yikes. One should never go visit Tennessee!

I did find my mind wondering off a bit while reading this. Some of the tales were not engaging enough to hold my attention.

[Diane Rusert · Rating 5 out of 5]

I absolutely adored this book of essays by JoAnna Brichetto. She describes herself as a naturalist who lives n Nashville Tennessee with her husband snd son. Her daughter has flown the coop to big City life. I relate so much to her life as someone who has always had a deep need to be outdoors yet her physical challenges make it very difficult at times. When she writes of commitments at her son’s school and her synagog while seriously ill with a migraine, I am taken back to dance recital rehearsals, band and chorus concerts, a Girl Scout camp out and every one of our girl’s college move in days all with terrible blinding migraines. She also needs alot of time alone as I always have. The scary mammograms for years requiring tests and sometimes procedures, I have often been there too.
But with all of this she steals my heart with her wonderful love of the natural even while living in a City. She (and sometimes her husband) comb through some pretty sketchy parks, abandoned areas and teach the reader so much about observing nature. As a lifelong resident of a tiny City along the Niagara River in a suburb of Buffalo, New York, I was not familiar with things like a glade or hackberry trees. I have however spent a fair amount of time in the South visiting family and friends and vacationing. One revelation was learning why so many otherwise pristine homes and other buildings have large black stains on the roof and siding. It is from aphids in the trees that poop the black substance that comes down like misty rain and is referred to as “honeydew”.
This book will turn you into a real tree hugger if you aren’t one already and do it without being a fake virtue show off. You should read this wonderful book.

[Billfrog stern · Rating 5 out of 5]

I bought this book as a gag gift (for a friend named Robin) but this is frickin amazing. It’s like a cross between Ross Gay’s Book of Delights and and and I dunno, that teacher/scout leader/parent who taught you how to really see things you never bothered to notice before. Brava!

[Carolina Maggio · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the best books I’ve read. It puts words to the wonders we encounter daily.

[Kelly Holmes · Rating 4 out of 5]

Confession: Nature and I don't get along. More than 10 minutes in direct sun (with 50 SPF sunscreen), and I break out into a horribly painful rash. My nasal cavity loves to overreact to every known allergen. Mosquitoes see me as their own personal all-you-can-eat buffet.



And so of course, three of my four kids love, love, love the outdoors. One is obsessed with plants, another with birds, and yet another with all things creepy crawly. (My oldest is with me on indoors > outdoors, at least.)

But it's because of my three nature-loving kids that I picked up this book of essays about nature.



This collection is like if you took all the nature essays from The Anthropocene Reviewed plus The Serviceberry plus a healthy scoop of "Hey look, I don't have all the answers here, but let's figure some stuff out together" and put it all in a blender.

The author walks alongside you on your own sidewalk, pointing and saying, "Look at that!" The book equivalent of gently taking ahold of your face and directing your gaze at something wonderful you'd never noticed before.

Not to mention the writing is gorgeous, and she regularly made me laugh out loud.

To give you a taste, here's a snippet from the essay "Stinko Gingko":

"On my walk from the gym's warm water therapy pool—or locally, the ar-thur-eye-tis pool—I looted the ginkgo again. It was high autumn, and ginkgo leaves were shifting from green to gold. This time I knew better than to pocket the fallen fruit or drop it into my purse. This time I held a few in my flat palm on the way to the car, where I tipped them into a bag on the floorboard. Last year my coat and purse reeked for days. Blame it on butyric acid. Some say the stench is reminiscent of artisanal cheese, some say vomit or dog poo. Each is accurate...

[There] should not be any ginkgo fruit on any sidewalk, but especially this sidewalk at the door of a medical gym, which is also directly opposite the children's hospital and half a block from the grown-up emergency room. Vomit-scented grenades are inappropriate here, if not redundant. Lobby floors do not need puke purée tracked in on shoes.

On the one hand, ginkgo is a traditional Chinese medicine plant and the seeds, in moderation, are nutritious. Ginkgo might cure what made you join a medical gym in the first place. Leaf extracts are believed to help blood flow, memory, fatigue, and ar-thur-eye-tis, all of which would be welcomed by my fellow PT water-walkers, some of whom are twenty years past retirement.

On the other hand, the smell might kill you.

Nobody plants a female ginkgo on purpose. The landscapers either didn't know or care or the nursery goofed. This “living fossil” is a species unchanged since the Cretaceous period, but the only way to sex a sapling is to wait until it blooms (in fifteen to twenty-five years) or run bio-molecular analysis. And even then a branch or two or more might suddenly offer flowers of the opposite sex. Life finds a way."

As with any essay collection (for me at least), every essay didn't resonate deeply with me. But the ones that did hit hard, and immediately after finishing them, I doubled back to re-read them. My favorites that earned an immediate re-read were "A Dandelion Is to Blow," "Stinko Gingko," and "Hummingbird Winter."

Admittedly, I was missing a lot of the flora and fauna background knowledge necessary to fully appreciate all the descriptions, so I got in the habit of keeping a browser open and doing an image search for anything I'd never heard of before.

Me! Googling the catalpa tree and helicopter seeds and frost flowers?!

Also, me: Running up to my kids, pointing at my phone screen and saying, "Look at that!" Look at this thing we've never noticed before. Look how wonderful!



And I can't believe I'm about to commit this to writing, but the author even inspired me to look into my state's naturalist program—apparently, every state has one.

It's a lovely program, and I'm deeply grateful it exists, and I also know I'm not ready for that. But maybe one day? When my kids are old enough, I know they'll jump at the chance.

For now, we've started the process of replacing some of our water-hogging turf grass with drought-tolerant native plants.

Because as one person, I can't stop AI data centers from spewing more and more carbon into the air, and I can't stop billion-dollar corporations from adding microplastics to the products we use. But I can certainly grow a native plant that serves as a home to insects, provides sustenance for birds and bees, and supports our entire food web.

But above all, if nothing else, this is my new mantra: Look around. Notice. Appreciate.

Because as the author says: "We protect what we love, but we can't love what we don't know, and we can't know what we don't notice."

[Marina (morifinwes) · Rating 2 out of 5]

While I love how this book encourages you to see the nature all around you, it was a slog to get through. I didn’t enjoy the author’s very purple prose heavy writing style.

[Kiana · Rating 5 out of 5]

"This is How a Robin Drinks" is full of wonder, storytelling with details you can see, hear, and even smell (as fresh as the "spicy, warm, resinous tang" of a broken cedar limb). While reading, I felt like I was on a nature walk with a guide who is so down-to-Earth and showed me how to get more grounded with the Earth by becoming more aware of the incredible design details of flowers (papilionaceous means flowers shaped like butterflies), the clear imagery of the anatomical design of a robin while drinking, and how "phenology is the study of key seasonal changes." Brichetto writes with neighbor-like humility so her expertise in naturalism flows in way that is friendly and upbeat.

Here are my favorite quotes from the book:

"I can tell you now: a hummingbird heart doesn't beat. A beat is something you could count or tap or at least discern from one unit to the next. But my hand didn't beat, it vibrated. A hummingbird heart hums."

"At 6:30am, I walked the surprise gifts inside. They were cute little cups of gingko trees; one for Shawn at the front desk and one for Karen the manager. Some folks whose names I learned."

[Eileen · Rating 3 out of 5]

***½ rounded down.

This short little book of seasonal essays reminded me of Margaret Renkl. It stands to reason why she blurbed this book. The author and I live in similar geographic areas so a lot of her experience with urban nature is similar to mine (although I am not foraging leaves and pods off the ground but to each her own I guess). It got a little preachy and judgmental at times (if you truly want a "wild" yard that attracts pollinators and other wildlife, which is certainly not a bad goal to have, maybe consider living outside the city?), but I do agree with taking the time to appreciate urban nature and the creatures that live among us. It actually amazes me sometimes how many animals co-exist with us in the city. Nature finds a way, and we should find ways to support it.

{library, paperback}

[Susan · Rating 5 out of 5]

I routinely follow Joanna Brichetto's blog, Sidewalk Nature (https://sidewalknature.com/). The way she describes nature, and her emphasis on the world right at our feet, have always educated, intrigued, and made me realize how little I know. And thankfully, now her musings (most are not from her blog) are in a book format. She rights beautifully, personally, and with the knowledge born of her identity as a naturalist.
If you desire a book that is almost entirely about the natural beauty around us, if you want to learn how to pay attention, if you want to see nature from an entirely different perspective, this is the book for you! It’s been a much needed salve for my heart. So, if you too need a moment of quiet, and laughter, and joy, I highly recommend that you read this book.

[Christie · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 - a lovely little book of very short writings about urban nature, the most perfect book to pick up for my few minutes of peace in the morning while I drink my coffee. The only reason I am not rating a 5 is because I'd love this book written about nature in my own city rather than Tennessee.

[David Haskell · Rating 5 out of 5]

Inspiring and full of wonder. These vivid stories combine curiosity, wit, and a keen sense of the many ways that exultation and heartbreak mingle when we look closely at the everyday life of our yards, parks, and cities.

[David Rudin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wonderful short essays on, you guessed it, Urban Nature. What makes these stories engaging is Brichetto’s sense of humor and indomitable energy, despite chronic migraine headaches, Lucille Ball-esque goof-ups and the seemingly endless slights to our natural world!

[Kathleen · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m a lifelong conservationist and Love this book! It’s informative but not preachy. It’s approachable and entertaining! It’s spiritual and sometimes surprisingly funny. Finding nature right at your doorstep is what the modern person needs! Run! Buy it!

[Aharon · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pleasingly direct.

[Sarah · Rating 4 out of 5]

3/5 for the writing style
5/5 for the lasting impact

[Elaine · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved her storytelling but found her descriptions of places (particularly parks) slipped into a sort of purple prose which didn’t help with my ability to picture some of these places

[Beth · Rating 4 out of 5]

I thought I was eccentric and then I found the naturalists. So happy I did.

[Denise · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved picking this book up for an essay every once in a while. An author who appreciates nature where she finds it. Inspiring. Also funny.

[Kimberly Mackowski · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great collection of essays on a subject dear to my heart. I was especially touched by House Wren.

[Dianne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Recommended by Margaret Renkl, a younger Nashville nature writer shares essays of watching and learning.

[Susan White-Riggs · Rating 4 out of 5]

What an interesting read, learned a lot and I like her writing style, some very funny writing interspersed with lots of info

[Jennifer · Rating 5 out of 5]

I needed this dose of nature in my life

[Mary Kelly · Rating 5 out of 5]

A treat to read!