The Forest Unseen: A Year's Watch in Nature by David George Haskell

Goodreads:

A biologist reveals the secret world hidden in a single square meter of forest.

In this wholly original book, biologist David Haskell uses a one-square-meter patch of old-growth Tennessee forest as a window onto the entire natural world. Visiting it almost daily for one year to trace nature’s path through the seasons, he brings the forest and its inhabitants to vivid life.

Each of this book’s short chapters begins with a simple observation: a salamander scuttling across the leaf litter; the first blossom of spring wildflowers. From these, Haskell spins a brilliant web of biology and ecology, explaining the science that binds together the tiniest microbes and the largest mammals and describing the ecosystems that have cycled for thousands—sometimes millions—of years. Each visit to the forest presents a nature story in miniature as Haskell elegantly teases out the intricate relationships that order the creatures and plants that call it home.

Written with remarkable grace and empathy, The Forest Unseen is a grand tour of nature in all its profundity. Haskell is a perfect guide into the world that exists beneath our feet and beyond our backyards. 

The Forest Unseen by Haskell scratched just the right itch for me, and pushed all the right buttons.

As documented in some of my previous posts, I have been searching for and enjoying media that can help me relax a bit more effectively. I was entranced by the meditative prose and descriptions in The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating by Bailey, and enthusiastically searched for the next book that would give me a similar vibe. I quickly found Winter World by Heinrich, which I discarded around halfway through. While his descriptions are certainly beautiful and relaxing, he reveals a little too much about some of the queasy and sometimes downright gory methods biologists of his era and before used when learning about the animals they study. I frequently found myself more disgusted than relaxed (for those that have read the book, the turtles of Chapter 11 are when I seriously began to consider putting the book down, and did so soon after).

So, my search continued. Through some online recommendations, I discovered The Forest Unseen and immediately found it to be the perfect combination of natural (as in, of the natural world), reflective, and tranquil. Haskell's prose is absolutely outstanding, with vivid descriptions of the mandala as well as its inhabitants. You can feel through his words the tension he experiences attempting to observe as much as possible while simultaneously minimizing his own footprint in the little forest ring, and the struggle as he confronts the fact that his mere presence there is a disturbance. He communicates this so effectively to the reader. You come away believing that he and the mandala have made a sacrifice, an offering: the sanctity of this natural forest temple disturbed, to offer us human beings a chance to see and appreciate the delicate tapestry of life, death, and balance that we so often take for granted.

While I frankly would have been satisfied with Haskell's tranquil and meticulous descriptions of the mandala in every season, I was deeply moved by his engagement with the philosophical ramifications of his expedition. Even the choice to name the forest space a mandala--invoking the geometric and cosmic shrines found in Eastern philosophies such as Buddhism--is a thoughtful means to remind you with every mention that you are joining him in a sacred space. You are not here to touch, you are here to look; to observe silently; to reflect. And reflect he does. Every chapter masterfully connects a biological or evolutionary principle unveiled by the mandala to a spiritual revelation of the self and the collective nature of humanity. 

The book is enjoyable completely on its own merits--Haskell has genuinely created a masterpiece here. As for my quest to find relaxing media, it wildly succeeds. Reading a chapter before falling asleep became a favorite part of my nightly routine, and my biggest complaint about the book was that it ended.

 

Previously on this blog:

•  Alba: A Wildlife Adventure 
•  The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating by Elisabeth Tova Bailey  

 

Book cover

 

The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating by Elisabeth Tova Bailey

Amazon:

While an illness keeps her bedridden, Bailey watches a wild snail that has taken up residence on her nightstand. As a result, she discovers the solace and sense of wonder that this mysterious creature brings and comes to a greater understanding of her own place in the world.

Intrigued by the snail’s molluscan anatomy, cryptic defenses, clear decision making, hydraulic locomotion, and courtship activities, Bailey becomes an astute and amused observer, offering a candid and engaging look into the curious life of this underappreciated small animal.

The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating is a remarkable journey of survival and resilience, showing us how a small part of the natural world can illuminate our own human existence, while providing an appreciation of what it means to be fully alive. 

I picked up and recently finished this book, recommended by a friend to help me relax a little before falling asleep. Without spoilers, the book tells the story of a woman who has a severe illness which forces her to stay bedridden for many years. During that time, she adopts a snail who accidentally found its way inside her home, and the snail becomes a both a vehicle for companionship and an allegory for her illness-induced isolation.  

The storytelling and writing is really outstanding; when describing her own medical situation, Bailey has a bleak and gripping tone that makes you almost feel like you are sick yourself and suffering alongside her. This makes the extended dives into the comings and goings of the titular snail that much more refreshing; you feel the relief and escape she felt gazing into her terrarium and watching the snail live its own life as she could not live hers, and yet, just like her, isolated and alone.

I originally picked up the book to help unwind and decompress before falling asleep; I heard the vivid imagery and plodding descriptions of the snail would be well suited to this. And I definitely found this to be true; Bailey's descriptions have a relaxing, almost meditative quality that fully immerses you in her small two-creature world.

I was astonished to learn in the notes at the end that the experience Bailey describes in the book was completely real; I honestly didn't look too much into the book before picking it up and assumed it was fictional or only based in part on a real story. 

The book was really excellent and I can definitely recommend if you want something relaxing to help decompress from your day-to-day stress. Despite having finished it, I occasionally revisit some bookmarked sections with particularly wonderful descriptions--like the building of the terrarium or the snail's ever-longer journeys from its original clay-pot oasis--to help me relax and fall asleep.   

Book cover