In this collection of thought-provoking essays, ecologist Alcock explores the complex relationship between the desert and its human inhabitants. Citing such examples as the abuse of land by livestock and the reintroduction of the masked bobwhite quail, he chronicles not only the changes wrought on the desert by people, but also the ability of the desert to recover and rejuvenate if given the chance.
Biologist John Alcock has been stomping around in the Superstition Mountains of Arizona for years, seeking odd varieties of cacti, chuckwallas, and other denizens of the hot country. In this collection of essays, he offers an unabashed, sometimes sentimental song of love for the desert--one bears the self-deprecating title "Confessions of a Cactus Hugger"--that will delight any fan of Edward Abbey or Ann Zwinger. The masked bobwhite, he reminds us in one essay, was hunted to extinction in Arizona at the beginning of the century. Not so long ago, however, a bird watcher traveling in Mexico spotted a few being raised for enchilada stuffing, bought the lot, and reintroduced them to the Southwest, where they are now making a comeback. Like Abbey, Alcock doesn't shy from pointing out what's wrong with the West, with its endless development and growth for growth's sake. Alcock is an original, a professional scientist who writes with vigor and an appreciation for the general reader. --Gregory McNamee