The novelist and lepidopterist Vladimir Nabokov once asked, "Does there not exist a high ridge where a mountainside of scientific knowledge joins the opposite slope of artistic imagination?" My guess is that Nabokov knew the answer was "Yes," and that he believed far more of us could stand on that ridge if we could overcome the ever more specialized tendencies of our education or maybe just our own timidity. In the summer of 2006, I participated in "The Canopy Confluence," which brought together ecologists, artists, and creative writers. As a poet, I wrote on site every day and also helped and observed scientists collect data in old growth forests. In light of other writing research I had done over the previous few years shadowing scientists in their field work, this experience convinced me that artists and ecologists share a larger number of traits and habits than I had imagined, and that they can learn from each other in mutually beneficial ways. I propose that what ecologists and writers share includes the following: a fascination with hard facts; a belief that intense and mindful observation can yield surprising truths; the ability to slow down time to analyze discrete cause-and-effect relationships; the joy of pondering mystery or the challenges of incomplete knowledge; a habit of moving rapidly and often joyously between micro and macro worlds of contemplation; and a soul-deep love of beauty and metaphor.