The Smell of Fall

O utside my window, a redbud tree rustles in the breeze, its branches affording me delightful views of ubiquitous house sparrows, unworldly sounding blue jays, insistent cardinals, and frantic wrens. And let me assure you, the wrens really do sound (and look) frantic, never ceasing their chattering and scolding no matter how early or late the hour. Besides being a popular avian meeting spot, this redbud is my seasonal calendar. Its April blossoms mean my sister’s birthday is two weeks away. When its seed pods are supple and green, it’s Corpus Christi time. Now, its heart-shaped leaves are yellowing, and thoughts of school come to mind, especially of one teacher in particular.

Take a peek in your backyard. Do you see him there, just by the tree? With his long white beard flowing over his green jerkin, a smiling snake for a hatband, and his trusty walking stick in hand, Crinkleroot is on an adventure. Jim Arnosky, Crinkleroot’s creator, began drawing this forest-wise guide in the ’70s, and was eventually convinced to put him in a story. The lines, “I was born in a tree and raised by bees, I can hear a fox turn in the forest and spot a mole hole on a mountain. I can track a flea through the fur on a bear’s back. I can whistle in a hundred languages and speak caterpillar, turtle, and salamander too,” have charmed untold numbers of school children, who found in Crinkleroot an enchanting guide to nature’s wonders.

Fall, especially in the northern states, is a magical time. The air is crisp, a whole new set of delicious produce appears in our meals, vibrant leaves dazzle our eyes — why, even the sky is a different color! Sadly, these details are easily lost on us as we race off to the meetings and practices and games that consume our fall calendars. Crinkleroot is here, though, gently pointing out the quiet deer in our neighbor’s yard and picking up arrowheads from the field next door.

Jim Arnosky, while probably best known for the ever-endearing Crinkleroot stories, has published over 130 nature books (and illustrated many more) covering a wide range of topics. His love affair with nature began at a young age in Pennsylvania, where he spent much of his childhood running barefoot in the woods. After a time in the U.S. Naval Reserves, Arnosky moved with his wife and daughters to Vermont, where they lived in a simple farmhouse. It was here that he continued to build on the nature observations of his childhood by reading the works of acclaimed naturalist John Burroughs and the writings of Henry David Thoreau. One thing led to another, and Crinkleroot tiptoed softly (but not unnoticed) into the world in 1977. According to a post by Patricia Newman, Arnosky and his wife work as a team on his books: She takes pictures of specimens for him to sketch, and they live their lives with the rhythm of nature. Because of this, Newman writes:

His nature study requires an enormous commitment. When he won the Christopher Medal for Drawing From Nature, he missed the ceremony because the trip would have required unplugging himself from the natural world. “I don’t make my books for awards committees and good reviews; I make my books for [my readers]. I have as much fun making them as they have reading them.”

Despite his lack of formal art training, Arnosky’s illustrations are detailed and entertaining. His animals and insects move across the page, and even though the representations are faithful, each is imbued with a personality. His snake hatband is cheerful, his chickadees are content, his herons are saucy.

Not only are the books appealing to look at, they’re also full of fascinating information picked up by Arnosky and passed along to us. Want to know how to track an otter? Crinkleroot will show you. Need to identify a common bird species? He’ll help you out. When I first began seriously birding, I started to notice all sorts of new birdsongs and species in my own backyard. Had they just started appearing there? No, but I’d finally been made aware of their presence and paid attention. The same happens when you follow Crinkleroot’s lead. While all of his information is useful, it also makes us stop and take notice of the beauty surrounding us. The miniature forests growing in rock cracks; owls peering out of a tree; groundhogs going about their business.

These are certainly lovely books for any budding naturalist, but they really are perfect for any child. Not only do they teach practical outdoor wisdom, they spark curiosity about the world in which we live. Growing up with Crinkleroot prepared me not only for the whimsy of the Burgess Bird Book (which I will write about in due time) but also my college study of Aldo Leopold’s A Sand County Almanac. Most of all, though, I’m grateful to Jim Arnosky and Crinkleroot for reminding me to look carefully when I walk barefoot, smile at flashing minnows, and rejoice over spring pine cones.

So even if you weren’t “born in a tree and raised by bees,” can’t “hear a fox turn in the forest and spot a mole hole on a mountain,” or “track a flea through the fur on a bear’s back,” maybe you’ll learn how to “whistle in a hundred languages and speak caterpillar, turtle, and salamander too” by making friends with Crinkleroot.