Our loneliness makes us avid column readers these days.

Indeed, if "biology is chemistry with history," as somebody has said, then nature writing is biology with love.

The question of whether it's God's green earth is not at center stage, except in the sense that if so, one is reminded with some regularity that He may be dying.

The novelist screws up his courage in order to invest another two or three years in another attempt to float a boat of original design upon an invented ocean.

Men greet each other with a sock on the arm, women with a hug, and the hug wears better in the long run.

Our loneliness makes us avid column readers these days.

Once I climbed into a mountain lion's cage and she bounded at me and put her paw on my face, but she kept her claws withdrawn.