Mormons came to visit me on Vinalhaven recently. Me and the graveyard across from my house where settlers from Massachusetts, whose home in the late 18th century had the same location as mine, are buried-the Pierce family. I had just finished Shetterly’s book that day, and one effect was to intensify even more my pleasure in the natural world, of things seeming primal, outside the clutch of human influence. Settled in the Wild is a collection of anecdotes, short meditative essays about Shetterly’s experiences with the natural world in the parts of Maine where she lives, Sutton and Prospect Harbor; specifically, how humans affect “nature” and are affected by it. Her title suggests a paradox: settled and wild; can the two coexist?

Here were my visitors studying this scrap of a graveyard half-overgrown, half-exposed from trees blown down over the past few winters. The stones are askew, lettering barely legible anymore. It hasn’t been maintained; there’s been no mowing or weeding in a long time, since the last time family had visited. It appears neglected. They had concerns about that, even strong feelings: it’s a place due respect. I agreed with that. After all, the article I’d written some years ago for Island Journal about this family and their home and burial site I’d titled “Sacred Space.” But for me, fresh off Shetterly’s book, the lack of grooming was not a problem. I was seeing it as proof of the cycle of life, Nature reclaiming her own; that spot, lush with vegetation, held close to her figurative bosom. Wasn’t that rich tangle of grass, ferns and berry bushes tribute and evidence that life continues, life after death?

While principled and passionate about her concerns, Shetterly is not incendiary describing local environmental destruction, alteration and misuse. But the book, for me as a reader, is certainly persuasive towards her perspective. And what do I think she is hoping to teach us? That the natural world needs and deserves our respect; that we need to recognize our connections. Over and over, Shetterly offers examples from her own life, as someone from away who chose to live more simply, moved to rural coastal Maine and raised children there, trained to rescue and rehabilitate injured wildlife, and in the process, learned what coexistence-settling in the wild-means for the natural world, herself, her family and neighbors.

Shetterly’s stories are both humorous and edifying. Each is gemlike, her prose beautifully crafted, a pleasure to read and savor. One quick excerpt offers a taste. Here Shetterly is describing a dirt road near her home getting paved: “Maybe our children would have told their children that this old road with its dust and spring heaves and mud puddles proves that people, who are good at improving things, can be just as good at knowing when to leave things alone… In this time of transformation, I learned what is worth saving. Beauty is worth saving. An impractical, beautiful dirt road with a shading canopy can nourish a person’s mind and spirit, and people who are fed by the lovely aspects around them enrich the life of any town.”