Books like The Herring Gull's World — picked by fans

I first read this book as a graduate student and it gave me a new appreciation for insects. Heinrich wowed me by describing his discovery of a hot-blooded insect. Bumblebees can increase their body temperatures by shivering and in this way live in our coldest climates. They heat up to fly in search of nectar which they bring back to their nest of developing bees. They even hibernate and survive the winter in cold regions such as Heinrich’s backyard study area in Maine. This book so influenced me that I eventually studied with Heinrich, spending three years in his Maine woods following the lives of ravens with my wife, Colleen.

I was 30 years old - more than 30 years ago - with a high-flying career in the Information Technology industry when I first read this memorable non-fiction book about two young university students who went to study lions in the most remote parts of Botswana, Africa, with nothing much more than a backpack.

I remember chills running down my spine as I read of them sleeping under the stars just metres from wild lions, who had probably never seen a human being before. It was far from an easy life, but more than anything I wanted to know first-hand how that felt.

As a non-scientist it would be even more difficult for me – but after then visiting the African wilderness as a tourist I, too, decided that I wanted to be on the ground, fighting for the welfare of Africa’s endangered wildlife. 

This German zoologist discovered “imprinting” in birds and was often photographed waddling in his backyard, followed by a gaggle of goslings who mistook him for their mother. Lorenz was convinced that avian species experience emotions like love and grief, describing the mating rituals of jackdaws in terms touchingly evocative of human sweethearts. “Remarkable and exceedingly comical is the difference in eloquence between the eye-play of the wooing male and that of the courted female: the male jackdaw casts glowing glances straight into his loved one’s eyes, while she apparently turns her eyes in all directions other than that of her ardent suitor. In reality, of course, she is watching him all the time!”

This book changed my world. Jane’s work exploring the behavior and ecology of chimpanzees was simply inspirational when I first read it as a child. I wanted to do what she did—study animals.

It was only when I returned to it that I realized the significance of her ability to tell stories about the animals she met, introducing their characters as well as the data. Additionally, her work went on to break the barriers of personhood. If we accept human exceptionalism—that we are so special because of what we can do—then we need to remember that there are many other species that can do much of what we can—and many other things we can’t. It is good to embrace some humility.

The Birds is a tale of invasion. The rural West country setting appears safe, predictable. But Nat, an ordinary farm labourer, notices at once when the birds begin to mingle "in strange partnership." The description of the mass of gulls, riding the waves, waiting for the tide to turn, is unforgettable, superb. The birds are united against a single enemy, and they have a plan. They don’t care how many of their numbers die as long as they annihilate humanity. 

I love apocalypse tales and this is one of the greatest stories about what happens when nature turns against us.

There’s something grounding about reading the contemplations of a self-aware woman talking to herself while imparting truths to us all.

And so, I’ve read this little book twice in 2026, and it’s only June. Solitude, stillness, writing, nature, and wisdom that resonates across generations—that’s the gift. Think profound exhale, paired with escaping the competing tugs of responsibility to honour moments for ourselves. Relevant.

The elegant undulation of thought flowed in rhythm with the ocean swells of the author’s place of retreat (her quiet beach); the shell metaphor providing another gorgeous touch. This sacred read that grapples with the stages and dilemmas of womanhood, motherhood, and life reconfirmed that I’m on the right track—that giving to myself to better give to others isn’t selfish; it’s required.

This 1970 novella transported me into a world of seagulls, how they live and how they fly, and one, Jonathan, who decides to be different, to defy conformity, to go further and faster, like my own striving for something more, for experiences beyond the mundane.

I never thought I’d identify with a seagull, but this wonderful bird’s world view is exactly the same as that of anyone who sees more than what’s just in front of them.

Everyone needs a good friend and often when we make a new friend it invites others into our lives as well. This sweet rhyming book teaches a great lesson about what makes a good friend—and it’s not because they look just like you and like doing all the things you like doing—but revels in the differences that make each friend unique and celebrates the things friends do share in common. 

A gorgeous picture book that captures the joys and excitement of being a child at the sea, playing chicken with the incoming waves. The little girl and a gaggle of gulls get braver and braver, until… SPLASH!

Suzy Lee’s lines are so fluid and expressive, her use of a limited palette works brilliantly, and there’s a clever use of the gutter (middle of the book) to build tension. Dare you not to smile and feel joy.

I watch these oil rigs blow up, I bear witness to birds smothered by oil slicks, and I am paralyzed with despair. But Luis Sepulveda finds hope, and he finds it with two animals who, in my back yard, would be natural enemies: a cat and a seagull. He finds, not only hope, but also reasons to break all unwritten rules. Because life is more precious than money, and hope is stronger than despair. I love the animals in this book. I love them with my whole heart. They’re not super smart or super courageous or super anything. They’re two animals, on a porch in a situation that needs to be solved. And if they can do the impossible, then damnit, I can at least try.