Featuring 33 up-close, brilliant color photographs, A Dazzle of Hummingbirds lets readers peek into the daily life of the world's smallest bird. The book uses lively text to engage young audiences, explaining how hummingbirds care for their young, fly, sing, eat, migrate, and guard their territory.
Robert Tyrrell, the world's foremost photographer of hummingbirds, has successfully captured on film the utterly fascinating day-to-day activities of our colorful North American species. Included among the 235 full-color pictures are never-before-photographed sequences such as nesting, molting, preening and territorial aggression, as well as an unprecedented portfolio of hummingbirds feeding from wildflowers. Esther Tyrrell has written the accompanying illuminating text, by far the most complete and up-to-date information on hummingbirds ever assembled, which will make this book the definitive source for both scientists and the general reader for years to come. This lavishly illustrated volume opens with an introduction to this lovely family of
A respected author and scholar, Paul A. Johnsgard has spent a lifetime observing the natural delights of Nebraska’s woodlands, grasslands, and wetlands. Seasons of the Tallgrass Prairie collects his musings on Nebraska’s natural history and the issues of conservation facing our future. Johnsgard crafts essays featuring snow geese, owls, hummingbirds, and other creatures against the backdrop of Great Plains landscapes. He describes prairie chickens courting during predawn hours and the calls of sandhill cranes; he evokes the magic of lying upon the prairie, hearing only the sounds of insects and the wind through the grasses. From reflections following a visit to a Pawnee sacred site to meditations on the perils facing the state’s finite natural resources, Seasons of the Tallgrass Prairie celebrates the gifts of a half century spent roaming Nebraska’s back roads, trails, and sometimes-forgotten places.
This annotated list of the birds of Nebraska grew gradually out of research associated with my writing of the Birds of the Great Plains: Breeding Species and Their Distribution (Johnsgard, 1979a). It expands and updates an earlier version that was published in 2013 by the University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries DigitalCommons' Zea Books (Johnsgard, 2013a). It has been updated and modified in its current revision to conform with the most recent (2017) major revision of the American Ornithologists' Society's Checklist of North American Birds (Chesser et al., 2017). It has also been modified in its current revision to conform very closely to the most recent "Official List of the Birds of Nebraska" by the Nebraska Ornithologists' Union (Gubanyi, 1997, and later supplements in the Nebraska Bird Review, to 84:138-150). The NOU's official state list of birds (461 species as of 2017) is based on actual specimen evidence or some other convincing basis of each species' proven occurrence in the state. That list includes 337 "regular" species, 29 "casual" species, 90 "accidental" species, and 5 extinct or extirpated species. In this edition I have classified 368 of the 461 species of Nebraska birds as ranging in relative frequency of occurrence as "abundant" to "rare." There are also 61 species considered to be of "accidental" occurrence, having been reliably reported in Nebraska no more than five times, 20 that are considered "extremely rare" or "very rare," if reported from six to 25 times. There are also three extinct, four extirpated, and five unsuccessfully introduced species. Thirteen hypothetical species of dubious origin or identification are mentioned parenthetically. The text includes more than 123,000 words, nearly 200 literature references, and 19 pages of drawings and maps.
These fourteen essays originally appeared in Prairie Fire, a monthly newspaper that for seven years has carried important messages of social, environmental, and economic issues to residents of Nebraska, Iowa, Colorado, and South Dakota, and subscribers in the rest of the world. They discuss the North American east-west ecological boundaries, spring migration events, bird feeders, feathered survivors of a glacial past, the threatened sharp-tailed grouse, the effects of climate change, some "sacred places"-Aransas National Wildlife Refuge, the Ashfall Fossil Beds, Squaw Creek Refuge, the Hutton Niobrara Ranch Sanctuary, and Yellowstone National Park-, our troubles with mountain lions and grizzly bears, and crane season in Wyoming. There is also an expanded informal autobiography, "My Life in Biology" and a current and comprehensive list of all publications of a writer described as "probably the world's most prolific living author of ornithological and natural history literature."
Stretching for 170 miles across northern Arizona and southern Utah, Lake Powell is both a vacationer's paradise and the second-largest reservoir in the Western Hemisphere. Yet few visitors to the lake today are aware of the lost world that lies beneath its crystal waters. Once an enchanted landscape of sandstone cliffs and secret crevices, Glen Canyon has been but a memory since the damming of the Colorado River near Page, Arizona, in 1963. Often called "the place no one knew," Glen Canyon was in fact explored by thousands of visitors—including dozens of writers—before the dam's completion. River runner Mathew Gross has combed the literature of Glen Canyon to assemble this wide-ranging look at the history of this now-submerged natural treasure, the first book to bring together these voices of remembrance. Beginning with the first known written report of Glen Canyon in an eighteenth-century missionary journal, Gross has selected accounts of the canyon from both before and after the dam. Included are some of the West's best-known writers—Zane Grey and Katie Lee, Edward Abbey and Ellen Meloy—as well as Pulitzer Prize winners John McPhee and Wallace Stegner. Other authors range from David Brower, director of the Sierra Club when the dam was built, to Floyd Dominy, the federal bureaucrat responsible for the dam. The Glen Canyon Reader is a book that may be read straight through as entertaining and informative history. But as Gross suggests, "Perhaps more pleasurable is to flip through these pages, to poke around and explore, as one would have done in Glen Canyon . . . to visit and revisit the places contained in this book, these cool glens and embracing alcoves and hidden grottos, these canyons and dreams and ghosts that will always, always be with us."
A renowned critic pens this surprising and scandalous story of how the interaction within the lives of some of the nation's most noted writers, poets, and artists shaped and changed American thought.
f the hummingbird. Little wonder that millions of North Americans attempt to attract these spunky birds to their yards with commerical feeders. Hummingbird Gardens provides how-to information on feeders, plant combinations and garden desig n, showcasing the continent's 20-plus hummingbird species. Full color throughout.
On October 7, 1962, Bruce Berger and three friends embarked on what may have been the last trip taken through the Colorado River's Glen Canyon before the floodgates were closed at Glen Canyon Dam and Lake Powell began to fill. After thirty years, one can grieve for what was lost and then, like Berger, take another look around. The Southwest Berger sees is an unusual, even odd, place, with inhabitants that are just as strange. In this collection of essays he introduces us to people and places that define a region and a way of life. We meet eccentric desert dwellers like Cactus Pete, who claimed to have mapped the mountains of Venus long before NASA penetrated its clouds. We chart the canals of Phoenix, which have created a Martian landscape out of an irrigation system dating back to the ancient Hohokam; stay at a "wigwam" motel in Holbrook, whose kitsch appeals even to Hopis; and dim our lights for the International Dark-Sky Association's efforts to keep night skies safe for astronomy. Focusing on the interaction of people with the environment, Berger reveals an original vision of the Southwest that encompasses both city and wilderness. In a concluding essay centering on the sale of his mother's estate in Phoenix, he concedes that "our intention to leave the desert alone has resulted, unwittingly, in loss after loss, simply by our being here." Sometimes there are losses—a canyon, a house—but Berger attunes us to the prodigies of change.