David M. Carroll

Naturalist, author and artist David Carroll wrote this memoir telling how he became so passionate about turtles and where they led him. He caught his first turtle at eight years old and was enthralled by the reptiles from then on. At first he just spent his time looking for turtles, in later years he learned to identify them and began keeping records of his sightings. He also describes his training in art school, early directions his art took, and how it finally became focused on nature subjects. Became a teacher and often had to move his family, each time searching for a place to live where he could be near unspoiled wetlands, for finding turtles. This became more and more difficult as the years went on. He describes going back to his childhood home and dismay at finding so much changed, the farm he finally settled on, and how he worked to secure and protect habitat for wildlife (especially turtles) around his property and in other areas as well.

While this book wasn't quite as captivating for me because it doesn't have the extent of in-depth, detailed nature writing I so loved in Swampwalker's Journal and Trout Reflections, it is still a good read. I appreciate learning how other people's lives become involved with wild places, and how an artist saw and portrayed nature. And of course, the turtles.

from the Dogear Diary… (mere)

Another stunning fusion read in the natural history/memoir zone. Carroll met his first turtle when he was eight; from then on there is nothing that can keep Carroll away from turtles, studying them, drawing them and writing about them. The book is divided into three parts, childhood, younger adulthood and late middle age. What is remarkable here is that the course Carroll's entire life was determined by that one magical moment as a boy. The biggest decision of his life was whether to turn towards the sciences or art and he chose to be an artist--although I have no doubt he knows as much about turtles as many in the field. I learned a good deal about various turtle species that live in New England (which spurred me to muck about on the 'net looking up turtles in my home state) but the focus of the book was as much about how a vocation can become a career and fill an entire life with meaning and, yes, happiness. The saddest thread throughout is the loss of turtle habitat - particularly bad for the wood turtles up this way, who are terribly vulnerable. Yet another time we must ask ourselves why we are so heedless. *****… (mere)

A lovely book describing the lives of trout. I'm not one who goes fishing, so I probably didn't love this book quite as much as an avid fly fisherman would but I do like reading about natural habitats and the behavior of different kinds of animals, so there was much here to interest me... There is, within the narrative, some discourse on how human meddling has altered the numbers of native trout and how species intermingle, and the problems that releasing hatchery-raised fish into wild populations cause. And encounters the author has with other wildlife: herons, kingfishers, mink, beavers and their structures. But mostly it's all about the elusive fish.

Trout seem to be such wary, sensitive creatures, always with an eye to the ceiling of their world, watching for prey to snatch or predators to avoid. A lot of this book is just a description of the turning seasons (it begins and ends in the chill of winter) and of how the author moves stealthily along streamsides, exploring them and trying to approach without alerting the fish. He releases most of his catch, extols their beautiful colors, and sketches their forms. Exquisite artwork decorates nearly every page. This guy is even better at drawing fish than he is sketching turtles and birds. It is a very quiet, musing, contemplative sort of book. Rarely do any other people make an appearance. Mostly the author's thoughts and the quiet woods and the changing weather and the subtle fish hidden under moving water.

It's the kind of book you want to read uninterrupted, surrounded by quietness.

more at the Dogear Diary… (mere)