THE BOOKSHELF
For further reading, we recommend the following featured selection:
Nightfaring: In Search of the Disappearing Darkness by Megan Eaves-Egenes—editor of Dark Sky International’s Nightscape magazine and founder of Dark Sky London—is both a travel narrative and a call to reconsider our relationship with the night.
Why are so many people afraid of the dark? Monsters, predators, the unseen—through centuries of storytelling and mythmaking, natural darkness has been reduced to a metaphor for danger and evil. As a result, we have lost sight of its ecological and physiological necessity. Our efforts to predict, control, and illuminate the world have come at a cost: we have disrupted not only natural systems, but our own health.
Darkness is not an absence to be feared, but a condition essential to life. Humans, plants, and animals depend on cycles of light and dark to regulate rest, healing, and biological rhythms. Without true night, we exist in a kind of half-state—never fully restored, never fully ourselves. Even here in the Midwest, where open skies remain part of the landscape, true darkness is increasingly rare; for many Iowans, the Milky Way has faded from view, and with it, a direct connection to the night sky.
Eaves-Egenes weaves global travel with cultural reflection, exploring how different communities understand and protect the night. Across time, many cultures have honored darkness through story, ceremony, and observation, recognizing its role as teacher and guide. Yet today, much of humanity no longer experiences true night.
The book situates darkness within a conservation framework. Dark Sky International designates reserves, parks, and communities that meet strict standards for limiting light pollution and preserving nightscapes. These designations require ongoing community commitment and annual reporting, demonstrating that darkness, like any natural resource, demands active stewardship.
Eaves-Egenes highlights global efforts to reclaim the night, including New Zealand’s pursuit of recognition as the world’s first Dark Sky Nation. There, Māori perspectives frame the night sky as calendar, teacher, and ancestor—a viewpoint that positions the night not as empty space, but as a source of knowledge still relevant today.
On a more personal scale, the author recounts moments of confronting fear in unfamiliar landscapes, including an encounter with a nocturnal predator in Tanzania. These experiences contrast with perceptions of danger in the United States, where fear is often directed toward other people rather than wildlife. She also challenges the assumption that constant illumination ensures safety, pointing to mixed evidence around lighting as a crime deterrent and suggesting that, in some cases, brightness may simply increase visibility for those with harmful intent.
The book further explores the psychological dimensions of darkness. Research suggests that darker environments can foster creativity, curiosity, and exploratory thinking—an insight long embedded in human tradition, from campfire storytelling to night navigation. In this way, the night becomes not only an ecological necessity, but an intellectual and cultural resource.
Eaves-Egenes also examines historical influences on our perception of darkness, particularly in Western contexts where religious frameworks helped shape associations between darkness, danger, and the unknown, often in contrast to light as purity or divinity. These inherited ideas continue to inform cultural attitudes, sometimes distancing us from a more balanced understanding of the natural world.
Nightfaring reminds readers that humans are not the only beings dependent on darkness. Plant and animal species rely on the night for feeding, reproduction, migration, rest, and shelter. From nocturnal pollinators to migrating birds navigating by starlight, these largely unseen processes are foundational to ecosystem health—and by extension, to our own survival.
The book blends memoir, research, and cultural inquiry in a way that is both accessible and thought-provoking. Its central message is clear: reclaiming the night is both a personal and collective responsibility, one that begins with how we light our homes, our businesses, and our communities.
Ultimately, Nightfaring invites a shift in perception. When we recognize darkness as essential rather than threatening, it becomes a space of connection—linking us to ecological systems, cultural histories, and even our cosmic origins. As Carl Sagan observed, we are made of “star stuff,” yet without dark skies, we lose sight of that reflection.
Nightfaring asks readers not only to look up, but to reconsider what has been lost—and what might still be restored if we choose to make space for darkness again.
BOOKSHELF ARCHIVES
Past issue selections:
Soul External: Rediscovering the Great Blue Heron
In Soul External: Rediscovering the Great Blue Heron, Iowa writer and publisher Steven H. Semken offers a blend of field journal and spiritual inquiry—a meditation on myth, place, and belonging. His work reads as both grounded observation and mystical search. The result is nature writing that cherishes the land as sacred and recognizes the spirit in all things.
The book’s design enhances this meditative quality. Illustrated by Andrew R. Driscoll and arranged in a typographic layout that complements the lyrical flow of Semken’s prose, Soul External feels as much an art object as a written work. Driscoll’s images heighten its tone, reminding us that in nature’s gaze, we too are seen.
Semken writes as a seeker intent on understanding what it means to dwell within the natural world. “I did not feel that I was being religious,” he confides, “but I was cherishing this place as sacred.” Over years of watching and listening, he turns to the heron as “mentor and spirit guide,” tracing in its movements a model for his own attention and inquiry. Drawing from the language of naturalists, ecologists, philosophers, and mystics, his prose remains literary—lyrical and alive to the rhythms of what he calls “the center of the world.”
To know the heron, Semken learns, is not to define it but to enter into its mystery. “The herons’ nests are intended to be secrets,” he reminds us, urging readers to pause, “stand still…just twist your head and eyes to look around.” His prose carries a reverence that shifts simple acts of watching into moments of transcendence. The heron is equal amounts of earth and sky, water and fire, embodying an earthly balance. In the heron, Semken also senses a “holy spirit,” a lesson in humility and awe.
What emerges through these meditations is a way of seeing: the recognition that spirit resides not apart from the world but through it. Semken writes, “The world ultimately boils down to having faith in the unknown,” and from that acceptance arises his most beautiful idea—the “soul external.” To place one’s soul outside the self, within a rookery, a current, a stand of sycamores, is to affirm that life continues beyond personal boundaries. “I believe that to fully understand the heron, it must be seen as part of a more specific spot on earth,” he concludes. The bird, the tree, the water, the valley—all connected by a “fifth element” that “emits silence.” That stillness, he suggests, is spirit itself.
This collaborative work offers readers an invitation to remember our shared belonging. In rediscovering the heron, Semken and Driscoll evoke the early wonder of looking at the world and realizing it looks back. Soul External is an invitation to stand still long enough to feel that the land, too, is alive and attentive.
With the permission of the author and Ice Cube Press, an excerpt of Soul External: Rediscovering the Great Blue Heron is available on our website for readers to sample: "First Hint."
In Your Nature
We protect the things we love.
Jim Colbert doesn’t just love nature; he argues that close contact with the environment deepens a sense of care and conservation.
His memoir, In Your Nature, rings with childhood nostalgia: a first fish, a box turtle found in the woods, and a garter snake that ended up in a laundry basket. From Iowa’s most loved natives, like white-tailed deer and morel mushrooms, to its least understood counterparts, like cecropia moths and lichen, Colbert weaves an enchanting love-of-land tale.
His self-deprecating anecdotes are laugh out loud funny and relatable for anyone who has spent time tromping around in the woods. After an irksome encounter with wood nettle, he reflects, “Ignorance can be bliss, but ignorance can also be blisters.”
An avid hunter and fisherman, Colbert draws connections between conservation and his favorite hobbies. Those who live close to the land—finding, catching, or harvesting their own food—move through the world as nature intended. He says, “It’s a powerful, and emotional, thing to see first-hand where the meat on your dinner plate comes from.” Seeing the living animal changes one’s sense of responsibility.
Born and raised in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, the author, a retired Iowa State University biology professor, has a passion for connecting others to nature that shines as he shares stories of field adventures with students, enticing them to put their hands on the same reptiles that beckoned him in his youth.
Colbert hooks the reader with that first fish and keeps us on the line until the final pages, calling us to deepen our own connections to nature, to notice and learn from the natural world, and to protect it for future generations—because we protect the things we love.
With the permission of the author and Hog Press, a chapter of In Your Nature is available on our website for readers to sample: "Field Notes From the Road Not Taken."
Prairie Up: An Introduction to Natural Garden Design
In Prairie Up: An Introduction to Natural Garden Design, author and garden designer Benjamin Vogt challenges us to rethink what beauty means in our outdoor spaces. Instead of treating our yards and gardens as static displays, where non-native plants are herded into compliance for curb appeal, Vogt urges us to rewild. His message is simple but profound: “Bring the prairie home.” By designing with native species, we create living, resilient landscapes where biodiversity comes first.
Vogt offers practical, detailed guidance for planning, planting, and managing native gardens—including strategies for addressing HOA concerns. Illustrated with images that capture the breathtaking beauty of these wild landscapes, the book demonstrates just how much can unfold when we release strict control and allow prairies to show us another way.
Ultimately, Prairie Up is both a philosophy and a call to action. We have a choice: to see the land we inhabit as something to subdue, or as something to care for with humility and compassion. Vogt empowers us to choose stewardship, to love the ecosystem we live in, and to rediscover our place within it.
Writing Wild: Forming a Creative Partnership with Nature
Tina Welling’s Writing Wild: Forming a Creative Partnership with Nature explores how deep engagement with the natural world can fuel creativity and self-discovery. Welling’s central message is that creativity is rooted in our relationship with nature; she asserts that “everything we know about creating, we know intuitively from the natural world.” Writing Wild offers a compelling framework for reconnecting with the land. Welling’s approach aligns with the goals of Iowa’s conservation leaders, who emphasize the importance of fostering a deeper connection between people and the natural world to encourage responsible stewardship. Her book suggests that by paying close attention to the ordinary and wondrous aspects of nature—whether that’s a dew-beaded spiderweb or the prairie wind—individuals can not only enrich their creative lives but also cultivate a sense of responsibility and care for the environment.
The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World
In The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World, Robin Wall Kimmerer draws on her Potawatomi heritage, scientific expertise, and lyrical storytelling to reimagine our relationship with the environment and each other. Using the serviceberry tree as a central metaphor, Kimmerer explores the concept of a “gift economy”—a system rooted in reciprocity, gratitude, and the sharing of abundance, as modeled by the natural world. She contrasts this with the prevailing economic paradigm of scarcity and competition, arguing that nature’s systems, exemplified by the serviceberry’s generous distribution of fruit to birds, insects, and humans, offer a blueprint for more sustainable and equitable human societies.
Nature's Best Hope: A New Approach to Conservation That Starts in Your Yard
Douglas Tallamy, professor of entomology and ecology at the University of Delaware and author of Nature's Best Hope, puts the onus on all of us to act now for the survival of life on planet Earth. What we are doing in our parks and preserves is not enough, as evidenced by continued species loss. He provides practical tips for reestablishing natural landscapes in our privately owned and rented spaces. It's all hands on deck, and Tallamy makes it clear what we can do to ensure there is hope for generations to come. Tallamy calls our time the “Age of Ecological Enlightenment” and says, “We are on the cusp of a new environmental ethic.” According to Tallamy, this ethic “is the only option left for Homo sapiens if we want to remain viable in the future.”