"Wherever you are, wherever you go, there are untamed creatures nearby that need your attention. Unplug your modem. Slam shut your self-help books. Quit standing around like a wall trout. Get to work. Invite warblers to your neighborhood with shaggy plots of greenery. Learn everything you can about the bandit-eyed raccoon that stares at you through your sliding glass door, demanding enchiladas. Mark the direction of black darkling beetles marching up a red dune like a troop of miniature helmets. East? South? Let black widows live in your soffits. Lie on your back on a breezy sweep of beach and stare at the undersides of magnificent frigate birds. Master a hyena's laugh and use it when in the presence of politicians. Admire the male midwife toad, who carries fertilized eggs on his back for a month. Understand that certain species of mollusk can change their gender. Know that from a ball afloat on tiny filaments inside its fanned shell, a sea scollop can tell you which way is up. Crane your neck. Worm your way. Wolf it down. Monkey with things. Outfox your foe. Quit badgering your tax attorney. Take notes on the deafness of coral, the pea-sized heart of a bat. Be meticulous. We will need these things so that we may speak." Ellen Meloy, Eating Stone: Imagination and the Loss of the Wild