The photographs are stunning.

Don't get me wrong, the words are certainly worth reading. The author, Mark Smith, has a lot to say about birds, nature, patience and his philosophical approach to life. It's interesting, and it's kind of soothing.

But it's the photos -- mostly large, one- and two-page spreads -- that will keep readers coming back to The Spirit of Birds. Smith, an award-winning nature photographer, has collected a gorgeous, sometimes goofy, always startlingly beautiful assortment of avian images that speak to a lifetime of expertise, waiting for the right moment and, yes, no small amount of dumb luck.

I cannot overstate how amazing these photos are -- the detail, color and expressiveness. Activity frozen in time.

You'll see a crow hitching a ride on the back of a bald eagle, as well as a pair of bald eagles fighting. You'll watch a roseate spoonbill bathing its feathers. You'll see a cormorant eating a stingray (or is it a skate?), and a white pelican with a shark -- yes, a shark -- in its pouch. You'll learn about Smith's efforts to save an osprey whose wing was nearly severed by a highway collision. You'll see a loggerhead shrike feasting on a sun-dried grasshopper ... and learn why the bird impales his food on thorns and barbed-wire fences for a few days before dining. You'll wonder how the battle ended between a great blue heron and a snake. You'll bask in the wisdom of a wizened wood stork.

Smith, a native resident of Florida, takes ample advantage of his home state's avian wonders ... but he doesn't limit himself to that arena. He travels the country and the world for his art, and he shares images here from numerous stops along the way. Some were painstakingly planned, some were fortunate accidents of good timing.

The photos are accompanied by brief passages of prose, mostly anecdotes about the circumstances in which each photo was taken. Smith shares details about what led him to a specific site, or what uncomfortable bits of nature he had to crawl or wade through to get the right angle or distance from his subjects. Some of his stories are uplifting, while others are sad. Many of his descriptions are direct and matter-of-fact. There is a subtle but unmistakable message about environmental conservation buried in the text, too.

Sometimes he gets a little introspective, as he does in this passage from a page devoted to a pair of American oystercatchers:

The more time I spend behind the camera, the more it opens my eyes to beautiful things that we simply tune out. It has revitalized the childlike wonder that gradually slips away from us a little each day, and now I see the world through a new set of eyes as a direct result.

In other cases, a hint of poetry creeps into his observations. Take for instance this passage that accompanies a photo of a shy but inquisitive barred owl:

The moment of stillness stayed with me. We met in the middle between dusk and darkness, wild and human, sleep and waking. And once again, I was reminded: we are not so different after all.

The book is divided into chapters, each of which addresses birds in their various moods and circumstances: Harmony, Resilience, Transformation, Mischief & Mayhem, Battle, Wisdom, Elegance & Grace, Love, and Freedom. Throughout, Smith ponders the nature of birds, their instincts and intellect, their emotions -- and yes, he rejects the notion that such things are merely anthropomorphic desires projected onto them by overly credulous humans. For proof, he offers his story of a sandhill crane family that he observed for several months, witnessing their affection, care and even grief.

And, by observing birds, Smith has learned a lot about himself. As he explains, beside a picture of an American purple gallinule carrying a flower to its mate:

One of the reasons I fell in love with bird photography was the sheer amount of knowledge that could be gleaned from a single photo. I've said it before: I have learned so much about life simply by being present with my camera.

The Spirit of Birds is a beautiful book. I really think you'll enjoy it.