NAHANT – Long before the North Shore became a congested continuum of communities stretching from Revere to Rockport, it was a lush and diverse natural landscape.For those with a keen eye, it’s still possible to observe and experience those early charms, a task made easier by Kristina Lindborg, author and illustrator of a new guidebook entitled “A Natural History of Boston’s North Shore.”Among the nuggets of knowledge readers will find in Lindborg’s book: All beaches are not alike, as evidenced by the sand and gravel bars, otherwise known as tombolo beaches, which connect Nahant and parts of Marblehead to the mainland.In years gone by, Nahant was an island during high tide. When the tombolo beach was exposed at the ebb tide, farmers in Lynn herded their cattle across to graze on Little Nahant.Crane Beach in Ipswich and, farther north, Salisbury Beach and Plum Island, are all barrier beaches, long and narrow strips of sand that lie parallel to the shore and were once islands. Relatively soft in consistency, these beaches are constantly sculpted by the sea, giving them a completely different dynamic than the nearly impregnable granite on Nahant’s East Point or Rockport’s Halibut Point.Lindborg, who lives in Ipswich with her husband, science writer William Sargent, worked for many years as a news reporter and producer, and as assistant managing editor for the Christian Science Monitor Radio in Boston. In her richly-illustrated book, she notes that Marblehead is home to the world’s largest jellyfish, and that a Swampscott fisherman once snared a mastodon tooth six miles out to sea. It was the second such amazing discovery on the North Shore in a five-year period.According to Lindborg, in 1975 a Cape Ann fisherman trawling near Marblehead in 180 feet of water hauled up a tangled mass of kelp, flounder and Jonah crabs, along with a hard, glistening and distinctly rigid object about six inches long.”It was a tooth, but the tooth of neither shark, whale, cod or any other marine animal for that matter,” she wrote. “It was the tooth of a decidedly wooly mammal that lumbered heavily over the Massachusetts landscape some 12,000 years ago. It belonged to a wooly mammoth. But there’s more to the story. Some five years later, another Cape Ann fisherman, this time out of Swampscott, found a mastodon tooth less than six miles from where the mammoth tooth had been dredged.”It’s precisely these and other bits and pieces of the region’s natural history that make Lindborg’s book so interesting. For example, in the early spring on Chebacco Road in Hamilton, a breeding frenzy erupts that includes the whistling of Lilliputian spring peeper frogs, no bigger than a thumbnail; the quacking of larger wood frogs; and the elegant courtship dances performed by spotted salamanders in the region’s many vernal pools.Lindborg has provided an easily accessible guide for getting in touch with fascinating occurrences in nature on the North Shore, sharing a passion she has nurtured since girlhood.”I’ve had a love affair with the North Shore since my first visit,” she acknowledged, noting she and her mother moved from California to Boston long before the Boston Redevelopment Authority “grabbed the city’s character by its throat and squeezed until it was rendered colorless beyond recognition.”Since Lindborg had an aunt, uncle and cousins in Hamilton, she grew familiar with the commuter rail. It was on those train trips that she fell in love with the North Shore’s diverse landscape.Lindborg includes many people in her list of acknowledgements, including her father-in-law, former Massachusetts Gov. Frank Sargent, to whom she attributes a commitment to environmental initiatives at the State House long before it became politically fashionable. As she put it, Sargent had “a style, wit, and passion for making sure that future generations would be able to enjoy the pristine beauty of places like Essex County.”The 144-page book is published by the University Press of New Engl