Poor Richard’s Books Recommends Bear, Stick, and Flower Titles in Colorado Springs

“Poor Richard’s Books suggests titles encompassing bears, sticks, flowers.”

That’s the headline. The subtext is simpler: Colorado Springs is trying to sell you nostalgia wrapped in paper.

The staff at Poor Richard’s Books has released its May recommendations. They’re pushing a grizzly bear narrative, a treatise on walking sticks, and a botanical guide. It’s a trio of selections that feels less like a literary critique and more like a mood board for people who want to feel closer to nature without actually getting bitten by it.

Let’s look at the heavy hitter first. Down from the Mountain: The Life and Death of a Grizzly Bear by Bryce Andrews. Mariner Books. $19.99.

The publisher calls it an “ode to wildness.” Jeffery Payne, the assistant retail manager, calls it a lesson in humility. Payne remembers smelling a bear in his yard in Missouri. It was “eary.” He went back inside. He realized the disconnect isn’t that bears are invading our space — it’s that we’ve encroached on theirs.

Andrews, a farmer and conservationist, uses that perspective to tell the story of Millie, a grizzly in Montana. The narrative isn’t just about the animal. It’s about the climate warming and people crowding the valleys. It’s about poachers and cornfields. It’s about the fact that raising cubs is hard when the world is shrinking.

Payne notes there are “no easy solutions.” That’s the polite way of saying we’re stuck. We want the bear. We want the view. We don’t want the bear eating the corn or the tourists getting scared. Andrews’s prose is eloquent. The reality is complicated. You pay $19.99 for the privilege of reading about it.

Then there’s Sticks by Logan Jugler and Boone Hogg. Ten Speed Press. $16.99.

This one is whimsical. It’s about what makes a stick good. Is it length? Sturdiness? Does it look like Poseidon’s trident or a Stormtrooper’s blaster? The book claims to offer tips for finding and classifying sticks. It encourages readers to “let loose.”

Payne liked it because he grew up on a farm with a stash of walking sticks by the back door. It’s a specific kind of memory. A tactile one. The book features sticks from as far as Cameroon. It features dogs. It features people who love sticks. It’s a quirky little volume for people who think about the utility of a branch while walking down Colorado Avenue.

And finally, the “flower bible.” The source material doesn’t give it a specific title or price in the snippet, but it’s there. A guide to flora. A counterpoint to the bear and the stick.

The short version: Poor Richard’s is selling comfort. Millie is a cautionary tale. The sticks are a childhood fantasy. The flowers are a reminder of beauty. It’s all very curated.

Payne’s quote about the bear is the only thing in this list that demands attention. The rest is leisure. The bear story intersects with the writer’s life. The stick story intersects with the reader’s imagination. The flower story is just there to complete the set.

Read that again. We’re buying books about things we can touch or see to feel better about the things we can’t control.

The price point is consistent. Twenty dollars for a hardcover. Sixteen for a paperback. It’s a small tax on attention.

Worth watching is whether this recommendation trend shifts toward fiction or stays in the realm of nature writing. For now, the staff is betting on the natural world. They’re betting that locals want to read about the wilderness, even if they’re sitting in a bookstore in Colorado Springs.

The disconnect Payne mentions — us in their space, not them in ours, is the hook. The rest is just decoration.