"I live for another season when the fireflies carry me over the fields and rise toward the heights of the trees. I must always be alert for the unexpected, and for new neighbors I have never known before," writes 80-year-old John Hay. In this sparkling new collection of essays, the veteran naturalist ("A Beginner's Faith in Things Unseen") looks upon the sea, sky, fields, and forest with a loving eye. He is always on the alert for new animal neighbors.
Hay marvels at the barn swallows who will winter in Costa Rica or Argentina. He asks, "How many millions of years lie in these great migrations?" His breath is taken away by a quick encounter with a weasel, "its secrets almost untransferable." And he notices and ponders the luminosity of shining fish, toadstools, and the foxfire glowing in a woodpile. From his residences in Cape Cod and Maine, Hay also shares his anxieties about the damage being done to the ecosystem by those who are indifferent to nature and wildlife. Thank goodness the number of people who share the author's delight in nature is growing every year.