THE YEAR OF THE TURTLE: A Natural History, by David M. Carroll, Camden House, distributed by Firefly Books Ltd., Ontario, Canada, 172 pages, $17.95.

Seventeenth century English critic John Dryden held that one’s vision of the universe could be sharpened through the spectacles of books. “The Year of the Turtle” proves his point. A gripping monograph about the mysterious life cycle of freshwater turtles — snapping, spotted, painted and Blanding’s — it flashes into full focus a piece of wilderness laced with the wonders of marsh, swamp, glacial pond, fields and wooded hills.

The text of this talented naturalist-artist glows with his water colors (many full-page) and exquisitely detailed pen-and-ink drawings. Interspersed are his own journal entries, their sensitive starkness reminiscent of the prose style of J. Henri Fabre, French entomologist, who startled the world with the realism of his observations about insect life. Shared also is the same obsessive zeal for their chosen subjects. Carroll fell under the turtle spell when he was 8 years old. “I remember clearly the light on the pond that late June evening, the movement in the grassy water plants I now know to be burweed; I remember catching and holding and looking into the eyes of that remarkable creature, the first turtle I have ever seen.”

Of the book’s six chapters, the first and last are devoted to hibernation (emergence in April; withdrawal in October). Under the rubric,”Emergence,” Carroll gives the reader this vivid description of the spring awakening of a spotted freshwater turtle: “The angle of the sun, some slight penetration of heat or light to the bottom of the pond, the scent of the first rains washing off the thawing earth and mingling with the swamp water, something rouses her after a winter of darkness, silence and stillness. Slowly, she reaches out with her legs. She works her way up through the darkness of the thick, cold mud, stretches her head forth, and opens her eyes. Dazzling April light fills the water.” In all the other chapters — among them “Courtship and Mating,” “Nesting,” “Summer,” and “Hatching” — one finds the same fidelity polished to high sheen.

Until recently, the lives of these inscrutable chelonian creatures have been as much of a secret as the Eleusinian mysteries of ancient Greece. Yet the turtle has been around for nearly 200,000,000 years. It easily survived the dinosaur, chiefly because of its shell armor and because it possesses the amazing ability to reproduce for all — or nearly all — of its long life. Despite this bravura background, the turtle is at risk. It depends upon wet meadows and rain forests, and in the stampede of an overpopulated planet the turtle’s living quarters are being wiped out. Impelled by concern, Carroll, who lives in New Hampshire, is donating a portion of the proceeds of his book to the recovery program for the preservation of turtles.

THE ARCHITECTURE OF ANIMALS, by Adrian Forsyth, Camden House, distributed by Firefly Books Ltd., Ontario, Canada, 72 pages, $9.95, ages 10 and up.

Mother Nature’s incredible versatility is on parade in this showcase of the kinds of shelters animals build, using their highly specialized and individualized equipment. Consider the carefully crafted orb-weaving spider whose abdominal glands store a liquid that is ejected through spinnerets at the rear of its body. These threads harden and become the silk with which the spider spins the gossamer web whose strength is legendary. That wonderful web becomes the spider’s home, as well as the lure for the insects on which it banquets.

Now ponder the marvelous wasp. It is gifted with the ability to build its nest of paper which wasps manufacture by dint of paring long strips of wood fibers, chewing them with their mandibles, and mixing the mass with saliva. The nest is in the shape of a hexagon, strongest of all the shapes in nature. By generating their own body heat, they can keep the temperature inside the nest at a constant 86 degrees Fahrenheit. If the temperature soars, wasps fly out, bring back water, splash it on the walls and fan them with their wings. Presto. Instant air conditioning.

Forsyth, an award-winning naturalist, also examines the architecture of mollusks, insects, spiders, bony fish, reptiles, birds and mammals, from the lodge of the beaver to the gargantuan nest of the eagle (7 to 8 feet wide and 12 feet deep). Bright as a scattering of autumn leaves, informative as the most beguiling of encyclopedias, “The Architecture of Animals” is lucid, cogent and respectful of a child’s right to know on the level that matches its understanding. It is a fine juvenile entry in the nature genre.

Bea Goodrich’s reviews are a regular feature in the monthly Books in Review section. Goodrich also writes a review column, and is the author of the award-winning nature story series, “Happy Hollow Stories by Judge Tortoise.”