The arrival of one's first child forces a Socratic humility: You learn how much you don't know. For writer Nathanael Johnson, that meant recognizing his ignorance of the plants and animals that inhabit our cities. His daughter, Josephine, was a year old when she began pointing at things and demanding to know what they were. Johnson was embarrassed to find that, when it came to other life forms, he usually didn't know their names. Most of the time, he could only respond with the generic: tree, bush, bird. 

Determined to be a better teacher to his daughter, Johnson set out to become a "neighborhood naturalist." With Josephine toddling along, he investigated some of the plants and animals that thrive in the San Francisco Bay Area. These included crows, squirrels, and ginkgo trees—species that, as Johnson writes, reveal nature "at its least dignified."

The result is Unseen City: The Majesty of Pigeons, the Discreet Charm of Snails & Other Wonders of the Urban Wilderness (Rodale Books, 2016). After watching pigeons for weeks, Johnson comes to appreciate them as "antennae picking up signals beyond our ken." He's impressed to learn about squirrels' ability to remember where they've stored nuts. He forages edible weeds, and discovers that he can "engage with the natural world in a new way."  

Johnson brings an easy wit and an insatiable curiosity to his explorations. But this is more than a charming field guide. He's determined to make a larger point: By paying close attention to the life all around us, we can hold on to a childlike enchantment with nature. Such attentiveness is a reminder that even the most common natural surroundings reveal "a world full of magic."