More than a hundred salt lakes dot Earth's surface, most of them hidden away in remote desert valleys. But today nearly all of them are at risk of drying up. Their death is a harbinger of rising sea levels, life-threatening dust storms, and environmental collapse.
Writer and geographer Caroline Tracey didn't know this when she began crossing paths with salt lakes during her early twenties. From the Great Salt Lake to the Aral Sea, across the American West and around the world, the unusual beauty of these shimmering, uncanny bodies of water captured her imagination. In Salt Lakes, Tracey travels across four continents to seek out and describe these extraordinary vanishing lakes and the people dedicated to saving them.
Running parallel to Tracey's environmental journey is an intimate, human her story of finding queer love and building a home in a world fast being remade by ecological crises. By the end of Salt Lakes, she shows us how seeing the environment through a queer lens could help save our water system.
An exquisite blend of travel writing, memoir, and reportage, Salt Lakes is an inspiring call to fight for all that is fragile in our lives.
Thank you to Under the Umbrella Bookstore that allowed me to read and review this as an ARC!
Salt Lakes: An Unnatural History takes you through an emotional journey of salt lakes throughout the world while the author explores her queerness. Tracey strikes a balance of discussing relevant history, nature, and her own story which makes the book interesting and informative. She further highlights the continued plight of the salt lakes due to human interference, and how to move forward towards saving these beloved lakes. This is an important read for anyone who lives near a salt lake. I would recommend this to anyone who enjoys nature, especially those who have visited any of the salt lakes across the world.
This book is a blend of autobiography and nonfiction (science, history, politics) in a way that defies easy categorization, but makes the info-dumping more interesting than it might be in a standard textbook or pop-science format.
I picked it up thinking it would be mostly science around salt lakes, and was surprised at the many times the author elaborated on her (often terrible*) relationships. At first I was almost annoyed by those inclusions (plus the fact that she didn't immediately dump those partners), then realized it kept me more engaged than other non-fiction books do. It also added coherence and a storyline around the various lakes she visits, as she connected them to her personal experiences. Once I had settled into the format, I was surprised how often she quoted reference materials or interview subjects, but that does make sense given her graduate degree and the many nonfiction angles of the book. Tracey covers a wide breadth of material related to the lakes - the history of what's happened to them, the life that thrives (or is going extinct) within them, the barriers to preservation, local politics, etc. It's in no way comprehensive, but I appreciated the periodic deep dives, and ultimately found the writing style kept me engaged in a way that more conventional science books sometimes don't. Ultimately the book is hopeful (both for some of the lakes she discusses and her personal relationships). And she does draw parallels between her personal life and the lakes in a way that feels cohesive by the end.
Random side note: The book is generally well written and engaging, although the author occasionally could benefit from a thesaurus. If I don't hear the word "quotidian" again in the next 15 books I read I'll be happy, and I wish she had capped herself at using that word 5 times per chapter. She overuses "ephemeral" as well, but that one is often (not always) used for technical accuracy, so many of those are forgivable. This is a minor editing quibble, but would have helped.
*not abusive, so no worries about a trigger warning. But I was surprised she didn't dump some of them much, much sooner
----- NOTE: I received a free copy of this audiobook in exchange for a review expressing my personal opinions. -----
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley - I love reading non-fiction books about nature and expanding my knowledge as a nature enthusiast. I have never seen or heard of a book that covers salt lakes, so I was really excited when I learnt of this book. However, my hopes of learning a lot about salt lakes in a scientific sense were not fully fulfilled. It started really well, but then the book went from salt lakes to the author's personal life. And that is not a bad thing per se, it simply was not why I was there. I believe I learnt more about the author's life rather than Salt Lake's.
I think the narrator saved it for me. This narrator was one of those people who you can listen to no matter what they are talking about. If there were another narrator or I read a physical copy, I'm not sure I would've finished the book.
Overall, it wasn't bad, it just wasn't the best. I came for the Salt Lakes, stayed for the narrator.
Writer and geographer Caroline Tracey describes salt lakes throughout the world, exploring their history, biodiversity, ephemeral nature, and uncertain future. Running parallel to Tracey's environmental journey is an intimate human one—her story of finding queer love and building a home in a world being rapidly remade by ecological crises. Throughout Salt Lakes, she explains how, in her opinion, seeing the environment through a queer lens could help save our water systems.
As an ecologist and amateur birder with a keen interest in all water features (including rivers, streams, ponds, and salt lakes), I found the sections focusing on the history of their creation, water rights, and biodiversity absolutely captivating. I learned a great deal about the Great Salt Lakes in the American West and Mexico—regions I have never visited. These scientific sections were my primary reason for selecting this book.
I found myself strongly aligned with the author's vision regarding the need to avoid "manicuring" spaces and the importance of protecting all species. I fully understand the inter- and intra-species relationships essential for a balanced ecosystem and agree that engineering interventions often benefit one side at the expense of another. However, I did not fully embrace the author’s stance that "queer ecology" provides a unique perspective on biodiversity. In my view, the author presents a more philosophical and academic approach to ecology, whereas my perspective is rooted in my professional experience as an ecologist. In my opinion as a non-queer woman, the desire to protect nature’s wildness is a universal goal shared by all ecologists, regardless of their personal identity.
While I can see how this 'braided' style might appeal to fans of creative non-fiction, as a scientist, I found the jumping between facts and memoir a bit jarring. The frequent transitions between scientific facts and personal memoir created a disjointed flow that I found difficult to track. I personally struggled to connect with the narrative regarding the author’s memories of Salt Lake City and her LGBTQ+ journey. Furthermore, given my lack of familiarity with the geography of the American West and Mexico, I believe a physical copy—ideally including maps and figures—would have been more beneficial than the audiobook. Being able to visualize these locations would have made the experience much more enjoyable. I found the narration by Cassandra Campbell a bit too clinical for such a personal story, which made it difficult to stay engaged.
Thank you to Tantor Media, Caroline Tracey and NetGalley for allowing me to read this book in advance of publication.
3.3 stars Thanks to NetGalley for the early preview of this audiobook in exchange for an honest review.
This is, at its core, a book about salt lakes around the world — which, by nature, isn’t always the most riveting subject. That said, there were definitely parts I found interesting, especially when the focus was closer to home.
I live in Utah, so I really enjoyed the sections on the Great Salt Lake. It was fun hearing familiar names and places mentioned, including Ben Abbott, who the author clearly holds in high regard. Those local connections made those chapters stand out more for me. I also particularly liked the chapters on Mono Lake and Zuni Salt Lake. The history of the Zuni people and their efforts to protect their lake was especially compelling and added an important cultural layer to the book.
The author weaves in quite a bit of personal narrative throughout. At times, this made the book feel a bit longer than necessary, but in other places it helped humanize the story and gave more context to why these environments matter. It’s a bit of a tradeoff depending on the chapter.
A consistent theme throughout the book is how fragile and threatened salt lake ecosystems are around the world. That message comes through clearly, and it’s hard not to come away with a sense of concern about their future and the broader environmental impacts tied to their decline.
I will say, after finishing the book and discussing it with others more familiar with water and environmental issues, it does feel like some perspectives may be presented with a certain level of bias or generalization. That’s not entirely unexpected in a narrative nonfiction book like this, and it doesn’t invalidate the overall message, but it’s something readers may want to keep in mind.
Overall, while I didn’t find every chapter equally engaging, there were enough interesting sections to keep me listening, particularly when the focus was on specific lakes with strong historical or cultural stories behind them.
Audiobook narrator Cassandra Campbell rating: 3.2 stars Cassandra Campbell does a solid job narrating. As with most nonfiction, there isn’t a ton of room for performance, but she keeps things clear and steady. There were a few pronunciations that stood out to me — especially for places where locals tend to say them differently (Mono Lake should be pronounced moan-oh, Nevada has the soft a, and Weber State is pronounced wee-bur), but that’s a minor thing and probably more noticeable if you’re familiar with those areas.
Salt lakes are something I knew absolutely nothing about going into this book, and I was excited and intrigued to learn about this whole ecosystem that is unlike anything I’ve come across.
Caroline Tracey delivers a wide-reaching history of salt lakes, discussing not only their geography and biology, but also their role in American history. It’s clear that salt lakes were essential to the settler colonialism of the American west, and Tracey lays out the way that water supplies were and are weaponised by those in power. She also discusses the impact this has had on the lakes, and the knock-on effect this has had on their biodiversity and on the people who rely on the lakes.
It was absolutely fascinating and eye-opening to learn more about this topic, which isn’t something I’d ever come across. I was especially interested in learning about the specialised life forms that live by the lakes, and although I wasn’t expecting as much information on the human geography, I still found it really interesting.
Although I did enjoy some of the more personal aspects of the book, I think blending the whole book with a memoir was a bit much. There does seem to be a trend across popular science books written by women lately, that there needs to be a memoir aspect, as if publishers don’t trust that people might want to read what they have to say for the actual science content. Although sometimes the personal touches worked well with the information about the salt lakes, sometimes it was a big distraction. I just want to learn about cool lakes! Is that so wrong?
The book was well-narrated by Cassandra Campbell, although I did find that the sound quality wasn’t particularly good. It was quite muffled, and I often had to turn it up to a very high volume to make out what was being said.
Although there were things I didn’t enjoy so much about this book, I do still feel like I learned a lot, and I have a renewed appreciation for the importance salt water lakes.
I’m always excited to read geography themed creative non-fiction. The premise of this book sounded great. I’m really glad to see others enjoyed it. However, I promised NetGalley an honest review and rating, so here it is:
This book did not resonate with me the way it did for others, and I suspect that this stems from my close proximity to the subject, having written papers on the microbiology and geochemistry of some of these lakes, and that I’ve been reading creative non-fiction since the ‘90s, and it’s easy to be overly critical of creative writing about subject matter that is deeply familiar to oneself.
My main quibble is that the book rushes through too many lakes without giving a single one sufficient coverage for the readers to develop a relationship with the lake as a character. The prototype of such a book is Terry Tempest Williams' Refuge: An Unnatural History of Family and Place, which the author cites several times as providing inspiration for this book and from which it borrows part of its title. It’s an incredibly tall ask for a debut to outshine “Refuge”, so it’s not fair to compare the two, and yet I often found myself doing so because a memoir that integrates the natural history of salt lakes is immediately going to take readers who have been gobbling creative non-fiction for decades back to “Refuge”, in which Williams so brilliantly interwove her personal story with the ecology of the Great Salt Lake.
My other quibble is that I did not recognize an authentic connection between the personal story and the lake stories. There is a exciting new field of research on queer ecology, but the sections on each lake did not fully encapsulate their queerness and the extent to which discoveries from each lake has changed their field, instead reading more as Wikipedia synopses of each lake. There are many more fascinating stories to pull from each lake (Ronald Oremland’s self-published memoirs contain many stories of studying Sierra Nevada lakes, including Mono Lake, though sadly the arsenic-life story has left an infamous stain on that research…).
Moral of the story: if this book inspires the next generation to find a meaningful connection with these fascinating ecosystems, it has done its job. I hope other readers enjoy it and I hope the author keeps writing.
Caroline Tracey’s Salt Lakes: An Unnatural History is a remarkable blend of memoir and natural science, weaving together ecological investigation with a deeply personal coming-of-age narrative. As Tracey travels across the American West and beyond, she introduces readers to salt lakes around the world—their strange beauty, their ecological importance, and the alarming rate at which many of them are disappearing.
Along the way, the book becomes something more intimate. As Tracey documents these fragile ecosystems, she is also documenting her own life: discovering her identity, falling in love, and building a home with her partner. The interplay between environmental loss and personal growth gives the book a quiet emotional depth that elevates it beyond traditional nature writing.
I found myself learning about queer ecology, ephemeral salt lakes, and the waterways that sustain them. The book also highlights the destructive consequences of settler colonial approaches to land management, reinforcing my growing belief that attempts to “tame” nature in order to suit human needs often come at devastating ecological cost.
Tracey’s writing is also filled with memorable language. I fell in love with the phrase “quotidian ephemera,” and several lines stayed with me long after I finished reading. “Some of the most beautiful, sacred parts of love are the banal ones.” “The joy of queerness is in the richness of the quotidian.” “Queer ecology teaches us to love the ugly, unruly in this world; the scorned and the sacred.” These reflections, alongside the sobering reality that we may already be past the tipping point for saving many of these lakes, make the book both beautiful and unsettling.
This is an extraordinary work of nature writing—thoughtful, personal, and quietly urgent.
When I first moved to California almost fifty years ago, I was struck by how arid it is. Before then I had never been west of the Mississippi and in my mind the world was green, except in winter when it was white and gray. My first reaction was that the west was barren, that aridity equated with an impoverished environment, an absence of life. It didn't take me long to see it differently and to come to appreciate that the west teems with life, not just in the sagebrush hills around Los Angeles, but even the starker terrain of California's deserts.
But I needed an extra push to be able to appreciate the unique and bountiful ecologies of salt lakes. Salt lakes feel like death zones - no fish, few plants, toxic mineral stench. But, of course, you just have to pause and look to see the life, which Ms. Tracey does very nicely. And once you see the salt lakes this way, you can better appreciate the tragedy of their shrinkage around the world - The Aral Sea, the Great Salt Lake, the Salton Sea, Mono Lake and more.
I liked the way that Ms. Tracey ties the salt lakes to Queer Ecology, which helps us to appreciate the special and unique qualities of niche environments and to see that they are a vital part of the larger world. But it worked less well to me when she tied it back into her personal quest to uncover her sexual orientation and to build a queer world for herself and her wife. I might have enjoyed that story more as a separate book because Ms. Tracey is certainly an interesting person, but using Queer Ecology and Queer Theory as the bridges between the salt lakes and her own story felt a little forced and made me like the book less.
This book documents various journeys and plays on the word "unnatural" in the title. The author travels to study and visit salt lakes in the US, Mexico, and countries from the former Soviet Union. It turns out that the types of wildlife that can survive in saltwater have adaptations that enable their systems to filter out salt and minerals. They are different, unnatural, queer...if you will. (The author's words, not mine.) These delicate ecosystems are in danger: as water is diverted or evaporates on a warming planet, the salt lakes get saltier. This increase in salinization puts additional strain on the brine shrimp and insects, which is unsustainable. These salt lake dwellers, in turn, feed certain types of migrating birds, who will die when their source of food is gone. It's a problem that, fortunately, tribes, activists, ecologists, and nature conservancies are working together to solve.
The other journey is the author's. She worked as a rancher (cowboy), did the van life with her college boyfriend, traveled to Kazakhstan on a fellowship, studied in Mexico, and decided to try dating women. There's also a bit about birding. She weaves her personal narrative into the story of salt lakes and creates an interesting tapestry.
The book is well-narrated. In the end, there's a discussion on the importance of saving and supporting the unnatural, the queer, for the betterment of all life. 4.4 stars.
My thanks to the author, publisher, @TantorMedia, and #NetGalley for early access to the audiobook of #SaltLakes for review purposes. Publication date: 17 March 2026.
This book is a fascinating journey around the world's great and small salt lakes, exploring their history, their current state, and plans for their future. The subtitle, "An Unnatural History," gives a clue to one of the book's main topics - how human activity over time has degraded, and in some cases obliterated, these fragile ecosystems based on the belief that if water isn't being used for human consumption, it's basically worthless. Fortunately, there are plans afoot to restore at least some of the lakes to a level where wildlife will be able to return. The legal battles involved in some of these initiatives are quite fascinating.
The stories of the lakes are interleaved with episodes from the author's own life as she explores her own relationship with nature and with other people. She shows a real affinity for the salt-lake ecosystem and the way it's been undervalued and misunderstood for so long.
The book has extensive source notes and bibliography for anyone wanting to explore further. I'm basing this review on a text-only pre=publication version; hopefully, the published book will contain photos of some of these fascinating lakes and the birds and insects they support.
Salt Lakes is part natural history book, part queer studies and part memoir. The author does a great job weaving her life story, and exploration with queerness, with her studies of salt lakes and their fascinating history.
The author explores salt lakes in terms of their natural history and ecology and importance to the environment. But she also explores the history of their management and their importance to the various cultures in the areas around them (Indigenous people, colonizers, etc).
Throughout this she also ties in her own life story and fascination with the salt lakes that turns into a career. She also details her queerness and how this relates to everything as well.
I was expecting a bit more natural history and didn’t expect the memoir aspect of the book but the author does a great job with balancing the parts of the book.
The narration was fine but I had wished it was a bit more engaging at times. It still isn’t not bad in any way and would listen to another book by this narrator.
Thank you to the NetGalley and Tantor Media for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
If you would have suggested that I would be reading a book on the subject of salt lakes, and that I would have enjoyed it, I would have said you were crazy, and yet here we are. I not only learned about salt lakes, I learned about water diversion, desalinization, brine shrimp, fly larvae, and the assorted birds that hang out at water basins hoping to score a pupa or two. I learned about the author, and how she went from heterosexuality to queerdom and how that informed her choices and her experiences both out in the field and in life more generally. I especially enjoyed her travels to California (where I was born and raised), to Mexico (where I lived as a young adult), and to Australia (where I lived as a mother of young children). It felt like traveling back in time, and I could picture it all in my head as I read the words. The author, through her passion for rather obscure and niche subjects, managed to convey that we needn't limit our scope of what we think we might find interesting. I will never look at a salt lake or a salt flat in the same way ever again. **I received this ARC for free from the publisher, but all opinions are my own.
My holy grail for queer memoir meets nature writing is Sabrina Imbler's 'How Far the Light Reaches.' Maybe it's an unfair comparison, but 'Salt Lakes,' did not quite meet the mark for me.
I wanted more interiority from the memoir sections. I found the science writing interesting, and I gained a new appreciation for the Great Salt Lake as a former Utahn (born and raised). However, I left 'Salt Lakes' feeling like I didn't really know Caroline Tracey well. I know what happened in Caroline Tracey's life, but I ached for the messier, more personal insights memoir can bring.
I listened to an ALC of this, and since I am from Utah, I did notice some pronunciations that were not how locals pronounce things (eg. weh-bur instead of wee-bur for Weber, etc.) which took me out of the narration. I realize this is difficult to get correct, but I think a list of local pronunciations for proper nouns would have been helpful for the narrator.
Even still, this was informative science writing with a unique point of view. 3.5 stars, rounded down. Many thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for the ALC!!
Salt Lakes is a book that weaves together memoir, history, and geography (although I wanted much more geography!)
Like the author, I have grown up in the Mountain West, so this topic is very important to me, personally.
I really appreciated reading the history of each lake, especially reading about how the indigenous people took care of these lakes before the white settlers arrived.
Tracey is a talented writer and wrote about her experience with both Salt Lakes and her queerness beautifully.
I wish that the geography was a larger focus in this book. I read that Tracey has a PhD in geography, and she clearly knows her stuff--but I wanted a bit more explainers for folks who don't (me). I also wanted more time with each lake. As soon as I felt like I was excited to learn more about a lake we were on to the next.
I would recommend this one if you enjoy books that weave personal memoir with nature writing.
An artful combination of nature writing and memoir. When I picked this up, I was mostly expecting a science book on the geographic phenomenon of saline lakes, and, I did; but in addition to this, I got an emotional journey into Tracey's relationship with her queerness and her place within the 'queer ecology'. I honestly loved the connection between queerness and the environment. As we journey around salt lakes, we also accompany Tracey on her journey of self-discovery. The way these were then tied together was truly incredible. I learned so much about the culture of the West, salt lakes, and genuinely enjoyed the time I spent with Tracey as a character.
Cassandra Campbell's narration was fantastic. Her delivery and pronunciation range helped bring place (and people) to life. Audio was a particularly impactful way to enjoy this book and story.
My request to review this ALC was approved by Tantor Media via NetGalley.
If you are at all interested in climate and environment, this is a must read! I was lucky enough to receive this ARC from NetGalley and W.W. Norton & Company because I wanted to learn more about salt lakes - and I certainly did.
First, this is a fascinating introduction to salt lakes and their importance to the ecosystems they are part of. Second, this is also a journey of personal self- discovery for the author which adds a kind of poignancy to the entire book: woman and nature are symbiotic.
The book is a wonderful blend of scientific research, regional, world and legal history, and travelogue - from the Great Salt Lake to the Aral Sea, from the American West to Mexico to Argentina and other locations where salt lakes exist. I especially loved this aspect of the book. The book explores how these lakes are changing and affecting birds and humans. But so cleverly entwined in the exploration of ecosystem changes, the author’s story of her burgeoning choices and changes. Again: woman and nature are symbiotic.
I highly recommend this book. It expanded my understanding of what happens when narrow-minded here and now thinking (mostly driven by greed) affects our environment. Salt lakes like many other things have to be saved for our children’s future.
Thank you to Caroline Tracey, W. W. Norton & Company and Tantor Media for access to the audiobook ARC for this book.
I found myself equally drawn to both the memoir and the more information heavy sections and found that for the most part the book did well interweaving them with only a point here and there where I yearned for a bit more from one end or the other. I could easily relate to the author's experiences as a woman who reached an understanding of her queer identity a bit later than her peers and for the parts of her journey that were all her own, I was still deeply drawn in by her story.
This book was an informative primer into salt lakes, the history of human interaction and intervention with them, water rights, the fauna the lakes support and the efforts to try to curtail further harm being done unto these ecosystems. I'll likely be reading further into a few topics that this book has gotten my wheels spinning on. I think this book will stick with me for a long while.
I adored Salt Lakes. Tracey takes us on a journey through more than several salt lakes, sharing their natural histories and current issues with the reader, but she also shares herself, and these were the parts of the book I connected with the most (and, at time, wanted more of, especially in the beginning, but wanting more is a good thing in this instance).
The writing is textured, detailed, evocative, and engaging. That's a lot of descriptors, but all true. Salt Lakes is a slow burn, so if in the beginning you're feeling like you want more of the author's inner landscape, hang in there and enjoy learning about the natural world. The structure feels very intentional. Anyone who enjoys nature writing will love this book, and I'm looking forward to reading more of Tracey's writing.
This is one of my most anticipated books for this spring and I loved the promise about how this book was going to be salt lakes and their ecosystems from different parts of the globe. I lived in the same state as Salt Lake and have been following the updates on its decline for several years. I would say the strengths of this book are with how well researched it was! I learned so many new things (also hello from a fellow Russian major who loves Russian lit!). I would maybe not a weakness but something that distracted were all the personal acedotes that didn't really feel relevant to what I felt was the point of the book. For that I found myself skimming rather than reading.
A huge thank you to W.W. Norton & Company and NetGalley for my ebook!
Salt Lakes has an intriguing premise, but for me it struggled under the weight of its own structure. The blend of environmental reporting and personal memoir never fully coheres, with the narrative often pulled in competing directions rather than feeling meaningfully integrated. I found the personal anecdotes in particular to be too bizarre and distracting, taking me out of what could have been a more compelling exploration of fragile ecosystems. At the same time, the book’s wide geographic scope comes at the expense of depth—each location and issue is touched on, but rarely explored with the level of nuance or analytical rigor that would make it truly resonate. Overall, while I appreciated the ambition, this one didn’t quite land for me.
Ugh! I got early access to this one a little too late to finish it but WOW 20% in and I love this book so much. Caroline truly has a way with words and I am excited to buy this book in print after the pub date...I can't recommend this enough to other nature nerds who love learning about the world around them. If you want a book about beautiful places with beautiful prose that will have you highlighting and thinking for days, this one is for you!
I will update my review once I grab the physical copy, too!
Salt Lakes is a beautiful combination of history, science, politics, and personal stories. I learned so much about Salt Lakes and loved how Tracey including personal stories to show her love and care for these lakes. I especially enjoyed her connections from her queer awakening to the history of the Salt Lakes. 3.5 ⭐️ rounded to 4 for amazing queer representation.
Thanks to NetGalley for the opportunity to listen to the audiobook Salt Lakes.
"In our lifetimes, climate change has made the whole world feel ephemeral... When loss is unavoidable, there is solace in grasping the ephemeral"
Although I work in the environmental justice field, I knew next to nothing about salt lakes. This was a really beautifully written and fascinating read that goes far beyond the salt lakes themselves and examines what the near future looks like in a rapidly changing world.
Had a chance to blurb an advance copy of this book; here's what I wrote:
"Salt Lakes is a perceptive, poetic ode to one of our planet's most vital, and most overlooked, ecosystems. Caroline Tracey plumbs law, science, and literature in a debut as gorgeous and vibrant as the lakes she loves."
Not sure what genre this book falls under bc it’s nonfic braided into a memoir love story. The writing is so beautiful and reminds me of Lost&found. Ty for giving me more reasons to listen to Sufjan Stevens 🐦⬛🪺
A fun book that interweaves the ecology of salt lakes across the world with the author’s experiences with them. At times the memoir component felt additive, at other times a bit distracting. However, on the whole a pleasure to read
The NYT called this "A salty ode to nature's wonders," but it's much more than that--part memoir, part travelogue, plus lots of geography, history, and ecology thrown in.