nature

Daniel Cooperrider trades the four seasons for the less familiar lunar calendar, stepping into the rhythm of creation.

Richard Higgins offers a remarkably full account of Henry David Thoreau’s ever-evolving faith.

A new anthology edited by US poet laureate Ada Limón invites us into the natural world.

“There’s a frog in our house!” My daughter and I said the words together, but only one of us was excited.

To understand this, I had to stop reading John Muir and turn to the nature writing of the Harlem Renaissance.

Daniel Cooperrider understands the Bible as an outdoor book, open to the sky.

Amitav Ghosh’s book sings the ancestral story of nutmeg.

The poet, now in his eighties, asks profound questions in a dazzling array of poems.

The poet’s collection of essays is so vivid, we can smell, hear, taste, touch, and see her rapture.

It is hard to say what will enamor readers more, the bird calls or the familial ones.

God called all of them good. Humans are rapidly destroying them.

Paul Willis's poems reveals epiphanies in the midst of everyday life.

Dwelling in the edgelands can help us find what’s most hidden.

Nature reveals itself as ruptured, as already profaned. To rest into a landscape is to be drawn into an adulterated history.

This spring, I didn't find any morels in the woods around my house. But I did find a lot of other things.

A pet peeve of mine is the pigeonholing of authors—especially the label "nature writers" inflicted on certain writers of immense spiritual power.

Here in Minnesota, Lent is an almost unbearably slow wait.

In Last Child in the Woods, Richard Louv sounded an alarm over the loss of outdoor experiences for children. Not only children, however, need to be outdoors.