Working at a wolf sanctuary became part of my identity. Leaving the pack was harder than I expected.
I had never met creatures more cowardly than those two mice, but, for some reason, they would never abandon each other.
I was helpful, but unlike the giving tree, I was not entirely happy.
Even though I’ve learned I can’t always consume everything, it doesn’t stop me from trying.
Unlike these stories, we don’t have decades of do-overs—especially on the West Coast, where the droughts are real and the big earthquake could shake things loose anytime.
As a behavioral ecologist, I was asking of the natural world the very questions I was too scared to ask of myself and those around me.
My mother’s body, one in a million, became a conduit for lightning, and, three months later, it became a conduit for me.
A poet wrestles with grief and the multiverse.
When the fires come, as they have for the past five years in California wine country, there is little winemakers can do.
On climate change, transitioning, gender, and the vanishing sweetness of maple trees.