In a serene moment amidst the grandeur of California’s Yosemite National Park in September 2018, seasoned naturalist Beth Pratt encountered a black bear by Kuna Lake, a meeting preceded by tell-tale signs of fresh scat along a vibrant creek. The interaction, characterized by a simple sniff and the bear’s calm departure, was a poignant reminder of the park’s wild inhabitants, a testament to Pratt’s three decades immersed in observing the intricate lives of Yosemite’s fauna. Her profound connection and understanding of this iconic landscape now come alive in her recently published book, Yosemite Wildlife, an eloquent and deeply personal exploration of the creatures that thrive, often unseen, within the park’s diverse ecosystems. More than a mere guide, Pratt’s work serves as a loving ode to Yosemite, a place she reverently refers to as "her North Star," offering readers an intimate window into the furry, scaled, feathered, and chitinous beings that a casual visitor might never glimpse.

Far transcending the typical field guide or a visually appealing but superficial coffee-table book, Yosemite Wildlife employs compelling storytelling to craft vivid, intimate profiles of the park’s residents. Pratt, who also serves as the California director for the influential advocacy group the National Wildlife Federation, collaborates with photographer Robb Hirsch to bestow each creature with due reverence, highlighting their inherent beauty and unique characteristics. She paints vivid pictures: bears, with their surprisingly gentle, expressive eyes; coyotes, celebrated as the "songsters" of the majestic Sierra Nevada; and bats, whose sophisticated echolocation is poetically described as "the music of starshine." Yet, beneath this celebration of natural splendor, each page resonates with a solemn warning: these very species, and countless others globally, face an existential threat, poised for irreversible loss if humanity fails to safeguard the precious habitats they call home.

The book’s release in October arrived at a particularly critical juncture for environmental policy, coinciding with significant rollbacks of public-land protections and concerning reductions in staffing and funding for the National Park Service under the previous U.S. administration. This political backdrop amplified the urgency of Pratt’s message, making her work not just a natural history volume but a vital call to action. In discussions surrounding the book, Pratt emphasized the transformative power of genuine animal encounters and argued that fostering a deep appreciation for the natural world is perhaps the most crucial catalyst for inspiring meaningful conservation efforts. Her narrative delves into the magic of these encounters, positing that personal connection can bridge the gap between abstract environmental concerns and tangible, heartfelt action.

The genesis of Yosemite Wildlife traces back to Pratt’s formative first visit to Yosemite in 1992, a memorable occasion graced by an early snowfall that mirrored the enchantment of a cinematic romance. However, her true suitor that day was not a human protagonist but a wild coyote, an animal she had never before witnessed in its natural habitat. This profoundly magical moment ignited a lifelong passion and a quest for knowledge. Her initial research led her to Joseph Grinnell and Tracy Storer’s seminal 1924 volume, Animal Life in Yosemite, which became her foundational "bible." Yet, she was struck by a glaring absence: nearly a century had passed without a comprehensive, contemporary work detailing Yosemite’s wildlife. This realization solidified her resolve to tell the evolving story of the park’s biodiversity for a new generation.

Pratt’s book not only revisits the historical context of Yosemite’s wildlife but also critically examines the significant ecological transformations that have occurred over the last century. A striking example is the American pika, a small, cold-adapted mammal once observed as low as 7,000 feet during Grinnell’s initial surveys. Today, due to the escalating impacts of climate change, these sensitive creatures are typically found only at elevations between 9,000 and 10,000 feet, representing a dramatic altitudinal shift mirrored in mountain ecosystems worldwide as species are forced to higher, cooler refugia. This upward migration highlights the rapid and tangible effects of a warming planet on alpine biodiversity.

Another concerning shift detailed by Pratt involves the common raven. Scarcely documented in Grinnell’s early surveys, ravens now proliferate across Yosemite. Their increased presence is directly linked to human activity, particularly the availability of food waste, which provides an opportunistic and abundant food source. As intelligent and adaptable corvids, ravens exploit these resources, often expanding their diet to include species they might not traditionally prey upon. This includes the endemic Yosemite toad, a high-elevation amphibian already grappling with the multifaceted threats of climate change and habitat loss. The ravens’ predation adds another layer of pressure, demonstrating how human actions, even indirect ones like improper waste disposal, can create cascading ecological imbalances. Pratt emphasizes that documenting these changes is paramount, providing a critical baseline for future conservation strategies and informing how best to protect these vulnerable populations in an era of rapid environmental flux.

In curating the animals featured in Yosemite Wildlife, Pratt posed a fundamental question for each entry: "What is uniquely Yosemite?" This guiding principle ensured that the book spotlighted endemic species, those found nowhere else on Earth, underscoring their irreplaceable value and heightened vulnerability. Beyond these unique inhabitants, she also included common animals, focusing on their specific stories within the Yosemite context. Black bears, for instance, serve as a compelling narrative illustrating the evolution of human-wildlife management within national parks. Historically, bears were often blamed for conflicts arising from their attempts to access human food. However, as Pratt explains, conservation philosophy has matured, shifting responsibility from the animals to human visitors. It is now understood that visitors bear the onus of protecting wildlife by managing their waste and food responsibly, preventing bears from developing problematic associations with human provisions. This shift reflects a broader understanding that in these protected landscapes, human behavior must adapt to safeguard the wild, rather than the reverse.

The rigorous research underpinning Yosemite Wildlife spans decades, drawing from an extensive trove of historical documents including nature notes, field journals, and observation cards. Pratt meticulously delved into park archives and surveyed over a century of scientific literature to ensure factual accuracy and comprehensive representation of ecological knowledge. Beyond archival work, her commitment to firsthand observation is remarkable, dedicating two to three days a week during summers to patiently observe animals in their natural settings for hours on end. This sustained, intimate engagement, spanning 30 years, imbues the book with a profound sense of personal insight and allows readers to connect with the wildlife through her experienced gaze. Furthermore, Pratt actively contributes as a volunteer researcher for the National Park Service in Yosemite, participating in critical activities such as bear patrols and birding expeditions with park scientists. This direct involvement with ongoing research not only enriches her understanding but also enables her to integrate contemporary scientific perspectives into her narratives. Her observations extend beyond mere species identification; for the past 10 to 15 years, she has diligently recorded snowpack conditions, temperature fluctuations, and captured comparison photographs to meticulously analyze how climatic changes impact animal behavior, particularly among high-elevation species.

Pratt acknowledges a common disconnect between the quiet splendor of Yosemite’s fauna captured in her book and the typical visitor experience. She cautions against the expectation of constant wildlife sightings, emphasizing that the park’s animals are not a "Disneyland ride." This reality underscores a critical message conveyed in the book: even within the world’s most stringently protected areas, human presence invariably impacts wildlife. Her hope is that this realization will inspire visitors to adopt a more mindful approach, recognizing Yosemite as a sacred space where every individual should "tread lightly."

Ultimately, Yosemite Wildlife aims to cultivate a deeper appreciation for the park’s unseen inhabitants, motivating people to care about wildlife even if they never personally encounter a specific species. The stories within its pages are crafted to inspire protection; for instance, knowing that a delicate Mount Lyell salamander inhabits the high reaches might encourage a climber on Half Dome to act with greater circumspection. Pratt further elucidates that understanding wildlife behavior is the key to unlocking these magical sightings. She refers to this skill as "reading the wildlife weather," citing the example of pikas, which often follow predictable routes when gathering their winter haystacks. By observing and learning these patterns, one can significantly increase their chances of a meaningful encounter.

Pratt expresses profound concern over the contemporary political climate, describing it as an unprecedented "assault on our public lands" and the natural world. At 56, she states she has never witnessed such a concerted effort to dismantle environmental protections. In this context, she views Yosemite Wildlife not merely as a celebration but as an urgent "call to action." Her fervent hope is that the book will illuminate the irreplaceable value of places like Yosemite and galvanize public support for their protection. The grim alternative, she warns, is that her lovingly crafted chronicle could tragically become a poignant record of what humanity has irretrievably lost.