Suburban Safari

"Witty environmentalists are as rare as shy politicians. But in Surburban Safari, Hannah Holmes laughs at herself while celebrating the wild kingdom she explores . . . Holmes is a science writer who doesn't lecture. She shares the joy of discovery."—USA Today

 

"There are no small ecologists, only small ecosystems. Hannah Holmes . . . finds as much teeming drama in 'this two-tenths-acre empire' as in any Shakespearean kingdom . . . Delightfully funny, though not so comical that we fail to appreciate how much we're learning."—Boston Globe

 

"Holmes' backyard assumes strange, oversize proportions in the course of this fascinating book."—Los Angeles Times

 

"Punchy and chock-full of strange and wonderful facts . . . Holmes makes it seem utterly commonplace to invite a chipmunk into one's home or spend the afternoon observing slugs."—Oregonian

 

"This is not just a very funny and very informative piece of writing, and not just a squirrel's horde of interesting information about the place you live. It's also a very important book—a graceful and forceful reminder that the natural world is everywhere all around us, to be savored and to be protected."—Bill McKibben, author of Enough and The End of Nature

"Hannah Holmes is a freewheeling, goofball Rachel Carson. Her obvious concern over our environmental blunderings never weighs down her brisk, charismatic prose or dampens her considerable wit. She opens our eyes to insect heroics underfoot, the complicated whimsy of crows, the secretive gore of spiders. Her curiosity and constantly questioning mind have led her to create one of the most unique, entertaining, effortlessly educational homages to nature since Euell Gibbons ate a pine tree."—Mary Roach, author of Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers

"Suburban Safari proves once and for all that there is life in the suburbs and that it's worth thinking hard about how to handle it. Prepare to never look at an old crow the same way again."—Robert Sullivan, author of Rats: Observations on the History and Habitat of the City’s Most Unwanted Inhabitants

"Zippy as a squirrel racing across Main Street, and as jam-packed as a chipmunk's cheeks with facts that wow. Suburban Safari is full of absorbing drama, alarming data, and adorable critters. My 'Year on the Lawn' with Hannah Holmes passed all too quickly, but the message in these pages is powerful and lasting indeed."—Sy Montgomery, author of Seasons of the Wild

"With infectious enthusiasm and faith in nature's doggedness in the face of encroaching humanity, science writer Holmes follows the four seasons as they play out in her own micro-habitat. Raised on a farm, the author left country life far behind when she moved to New York City for several years. Now she's compromised between the two extremes, setting up house on two-tenths of an acre in suburban Portland, Maine. She's determined to immerse herself in the workings of her patch of ground, and though it isn't a lot of land, it turns out to be more than enough to nurture many varieties of insect, bird, and mammal species. All are fodder for Holmes's meditations on natural history, zoology, and the current American landscape. The writer encourages nature in her own backyard through benign neglect; she doesn't use chemical fertilizers on the grass and grows only what can survive biweekly lawn mowing. (When her lawn mower breaks in late summer, she's fascinated by the resultant growth.) Other than that, she's a typical resident, blessed with an omnivorous curiosity and a good pair of binoculars. She gets to know intimately the crows in her yard, examines all the insects she can find under the microscope, and tames a chipmunk she dubs 'Cheeky.' Even the barren branches of winter are greeted with delight: Finally, she can see what's been going on behind all those leaves. Holmes doesn't confine her interest to sentient creatures. A meditation on wolves rapidly turns into a discussion of the last ice age and how it must have manifested in her little corner of the world. The lawn itself, as a feature of the modern landscape, also comes in for a sociological and historical examination. A cracking good reminder that an appreciation of the wonders of nature need not be reserved for special occasions."—Kirkus Reviews

"For readers who believe lawns are simply something needing mowing, science writer Holmes has news for them. Spending a year in her yard in South Portland, Maine, 'was to learn how to administer this patch of ground in the best interest of all its citizens.' Depending on the season, her two-tenths-acre empire is home to birds that lived in the ornamental shrubs, an oak tree, two pines, a chokecherry tree, and some sumacs. She records her yard as home to ladybugs (as dexterous as cats), crickets (they rarely hop, but plod along like the rest of us), and ants (they stop and tap antennae with each other). There are squirrels (one mated with five females and dropped dead), chipmunks (one lived in Holmes' house, and the book is dedicated to him), mice, skunks, woodchucks, and raccoons. All these creatures are her family, she says, 'and mine to take care of, to the best of my ability.'"—Booklist

"When science and travel writer Holmes turned her attention to her suburban backyard, she discovered a community of wildlife desperately trying to survive in a sprawling world of 'Wal-Marts and White-Crowned Sparrow Estates.' Holmes manages to find signs of hope and humor amid the spread of civilization, and she reports animal activities in her yard with the fervor of Wild Kingdom's Marlin Perkins and the laconic glee of Garrison Keillor. 'I'm a bit embarrassed to report that Cheeky has become the sun around which my world revolves,' she confesses about her resident chipmunk. That small mammal is just one of the many creatures to whom Holmes gives names and personalities, but she keeps her naturalist credibility intact by inviting scientists and other experts to join her in her lawn chair vigil. With their help, she includes plenty of facts about the habits of common crows, insects, squirrels and even trees. Science and humor serve as well-managed launching points for environmental lessons. By the end of her year, Holmes has gently taught us that the American lawn is a pesticide-laden patchwork that's increasing by a million acres every year, that heating a house can produce five tons of pollutants annually and that stewardship of our own backyards is our responsibility."—Publishers Weekly