Stephen Nash wraps up this hard-hitting overview of America’s public lands with the observation that “if we want that waning legacy to endure, we’re going to have to fight hard for it.” As I pondered Nash’s troubling portrayal of public lands I happened to pick up the latest issue of The George Wright Forum, a journal focusing on parks and protected areas, and read a piece by Rolf Diamant in which he quotes historian Dwight Pitcaithley who has written that “the National Park System today is vastly different from the one envisioned and managed by Stephen T. Mather and Horace Albright….The complexity of issues confronted by park and program managers today could not have been envisioned by the first generation of Park Service administrators.” After reading Grand Canyon for Sale I thought, “Pitcaithley is so right!”

Books such as the one David Brill has written are reminders that national park landscapes can be as deadly as they are beautiful.

The Colorado River rolls and tumbles more than 1,400 miles, and drains around 8 percent of the United States; an area of around 244,000 square miles.

While many consider Yellowstone National Park as iconic for its nature, 30 years’ experience of this “wonderlandscape” has led John Clayton to conclude that “Ultimately Yellowstone was [is] a cultural place.” How is this so? While not denying the significance of the natural wonders and beauty of the park, Clayton makes the case that over its 145-year history Yellowstone has achieved status greater than other national parks “by the accumulation of our experiences and values and social interactions – by our culture.”

It has been more than two decades since the wolf recovery operation was launched in Yellowstone National Park, and interest in the predators has not ebbed at all. Park visitors continue to congregate in the predawn and pre-sunset hours in the Lamar Valley on the northern end of Yellowstone. Magazine features and books are still being written about the ongoing fate of the wolves.

When the Yosemite Search and Rescue men and women head out, they might be plucking a hiker from icy waters, evacuating a climber from a sheer cliff, or recovering the body of someone who wasn’t even that lucky.

Springer Mountain, Katahdin, the Presidential Range, and the White Mountains are all iconic, all dramatic, in their own geologic and cultural heft, each with their own stories. And then there’s Grandfather Mountain.

Legacy of the Yosemite Mafia can be viewed as a prequel of sorts to Paul Berkowitz's earlier book about National Park Service malfeasance, and even to Robert Danno's own account of how he was pilloried by agency superiors after he charged that his superintendent ignored well-established federal laws and agency policies and procedures in showing deference to a billionaire.

In 1995, National Park Service Ranger Doug Thompson saw the Guadalupe Mountains of New Mexico and thought they were clouds. Little did he know, but for the next six years he would work under those clouds, and beneath those mountains at Carlsbad Caverns National Park. He was looking for a challenge after two decades as a ranger, and found one.

This title will be a great addition to libraries of collectors of anthologies of stories and essays from around the National Park System. Through its nearly 280 pages James H. Pickering has masterfully assembled narratives crafted from those who homesteaded the land within today’s park, from naturalists such as Anne Zwinger, Stephen Trimble, SueEllen Campbell, and even from mountain climbers.

The cover sold me. Whatever followed in the ensuing pages most likely would be riveting, and Mark Hendricks does not disappoint. As much as writers love to use words to create lasting images in readers' minds, Mr. Hendricks, a photographer, has captured the flora and fauna of Assateague Island National Seashore in a wonderful photo collection to be left visibly out for family and friends to enjoy.

Nearly 150 years later, Bradly J. Boner, a photojournalist based in Jackson Hole, spent four summers (2011-2014) retracing the steps of the 1871 Hayden Survey. He went on a personal “scavenger hunt” to find the exact location of every one of William Henry Jackson’s photographs based on the images themselves and descriptions published by members of the party, then “rephotographed” from each spot to show how the park had (or hadn’t) changed.

The national park movement has been evolving for more than a century, and it is by no means complete. The movement grows as governments, scientists, and society seek ways to cope with climate change, protect endangered species, manage landscapes, and to simply set aside more space for recreation and preservation.

National parks make obvious topics for books, and those books generally tend to be either coffee-table-sized photo books or smaller guides to the parks. Crater Lake & Beyond is somewhat of a hybrid, being a large format guide that shows off the landscape in full color while weaving natural and human history between the photographs.

More than 150 years after its conclusion, the Civil War continues to be dissected by authors who examine and re-examine the motives and strategies of the major players on both sides of the country-wrenching conflict. In Three Days In The Shenandoah, Gary Ecelbarger clears the fog of time to bring forward a more detailed analysis of General Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson's 1862 crushing foray on Union forces at Front Royal and Winchester, Virginia.