From Watchers at the Pond (1961) Franklin Russell has moved on to bigger waters, and once again he scores an impressive success in his special genre of the fictional nature story. With poetic cadences and mystical overtones (the ""Gulf may yield whatever a searcher chooses to find in it""), he conveys a yearly cycle in the teeming life of an imaginary Guff which ""mixes north and south, provides a meeting place for whale, and seal, seabird and landbird, barren and forest, an extraordinary confluence of life from the microcosmic to the Giant."" Russell has a remarkable ability to get inside the skin of a lobster, a grilse, a lynx, an eagle, even a balsam fir, to evoke the striking symphony of each season, backed up by solid scientific savvy (but a certain poetic license). On to the ocean!?