For those of us who were raised in an urban center and occasionally bundled into some uncle's old Ford or onto a train for a day trip to the outland (which could be defined as anywhere away from city streets and sweltering apartment buildings), the natural world was a suspicious place. Hence, it was with great pleasure and a strong memory of how strange nature still seems to me that I read Carol Smallwood's Compartments: Poems on Nature, Femininity, and Other Realms because it was like being given the gift of a guidebook for the uninitiated, a lovely, sometimes gentle, sometimes cleverly snappish, always graceful and immensely thoughtful collection of poems. She moves with ease between her "realms," starting us off slowly in a place like Lake Niprissing, which we can all remember even if we've never been there. "Lake air greeted me," Smallwood says, offering the line in mesmerizing repetition until one can hear the "cracking of ice" through the mist and fog. In this world, even the...

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