(2) K-3 Illustrated by Jackie Traverse. Daniel's (Sometimes I Feel like a Fox; Sometimes I Feel like a River) latest offering invites readers to commune with trees. Short first-person verses assign attributes to twelve different trees ("Sometimes I feel like a maple, / full and most generous... / Sometimes I feel like a birch, / smooth and fresh, anew"), following the cycle of the year from early spring to late winter. Traverse's lush acrylic and gouache illustrations never depict a tree in its entirety, with the tops always breaking the edge of the page. This choice suggests that art cannot fully capture the trees' majesty and en-courages readers to imagine what lies beyond the confines of the page, reinforcing Daniel's core concept that there is more to trees than meets the eye. Back matter offers thumbnail images of each tree, restating their names and highlighting the attributes Daniel's verses assigned to them--generosity for the maple, optimism for the birch, and so on. A closing author's note begins, "Like my Algonquin ancestors, I believe that trees are ­sentient beings with spirits who can feel things," prompting readers to reflect on what they, in turn, feel as they consider this Indidenous perspective and how it inspired this book.

Reviewer: Megan Dowd Lambert | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2024

(2) 4-6 In this gorgeous graphic novel with minimal text, it's an ordinary day as Poppy takes her dog, Pepper, out for a walk, all the while listening to music, scrolling mindlessly through her cell phone. Pepper, spotting a fox, breaks free and runs off into the woods, unplugging Poppy from the digital world and immersing her in the natural one. They encounter another child, who is fully engrossed in the woodland life around them. Poppy returns to the woods the next day, and the day after that. Nature walks become routine, and Poppy begins to notice the birds, plants, and sounds all around. She tells her mom -- who, in grieving her own mother's death, can't seem to get off the couch -- about her adventures when she gets home. The illustrations ("drawn in Biro, painted using inks and tweaked in Photoshop") portray nature in moody sepia tones that challenge viewers to use their imaginations to fill the pages with color. In the first chapter, the text asks: "What does the wild speak?" This question is explored throughout the story, and Kurimoto's detailed illustrations capture the essence of a walk through the woods; depictions of flora and fauna bring the sounds of the woods (including the wild "morning chorus") and movements of new buds to life, along with the layered emotions that nature can evoke. Readers are reminded that in an increasingly connected digital world, reconnecting with the natural world just outside of our doors can provide joy and healing.

Reviewer: Gabi K. Huesca | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2024

(3) K-3 Illustrated by Ashley Barron. A racoon is panic-stricken after taking a spill down a chimney. During a nighttime car ride, a family is startled when a moose sallies out onto the road. A chipmunk is brought to bay in a rainspout by its feline predator. In the fifteen short narrative poems in this picture book, racially diverse children and their caregivers unexpectedly come face to face with undomesticated critters, some imperiled, and choose to show them kindness and respect. A closing poem observes each animal’s whereabouts following their human encounters. Ruddock’s evocative rhyming verses and Barron’s textured cut-paper-collage illustrations convey both the vulnerability and power of wild creatures. Readers will warm to the wisdom of giving wildlife their space. An eloquent exemplum of animal ethics that avoids preachiness.

Reviewer: Summer Edward

(2) K-3 Nature walks and gardening result in an introspective child thinking small (and big) thoughts about the natural world in this quiet, poetic account, effectively told in the first person. The narrator's sister, experienced and knowledgeable about many things leafy and blossoming, makes grand statements about the plants and flowers they encounter. "Magnolias smell like lemon cake," she announces, causing her sibling self-doubt because "they just smell like flowers to me." Her confident observations about quince trees, dandelions, and maple saplings have the narrator wondering how she knows so much, while our protagonist cannot grasp the complexities of goutweed or even name the big tree outside the window. Wong deftly plays with perspective throughout, often showing the children from overhead as they walk through the woods or pull weeds in the garden. Heavy on greens, his pastel paintings have a serene, hazy feel, evoking the season of spring. One striking sequence shows the child lying in bed at night, looking with curiosity out the window at the sparkling stars in the sky. Wong brings the action to a satisfying close when the child finds a plant that even confounds the older sister. They will look it up in one of her books, after they tend to the garden. This book emerges as both a celebration of nature and of a loving sibling bond.

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2024

(2) 4-6 Illustrated by Karlene Harvey. Maggie Lou, full of "pee and vinegar" according to her grandfather, always gets into scrapes (some of which require stitches). The book comprises three episodic stories, broken up into chapters, about Maggie Lou's adventures in boxing, house construction, and hunting; per the appended author's note, Bowes (Métis) used her own experiences "growing up as a young girl in a colorful Métis family in Saskatchewan" as inspiration. Each tale focuses on her tenacity in learning new skills (even boring ones like boxing drills and gym cleaning) before the fun stuff happens. The stories are all action and humor, and if there is little character development, it's because Maggie Lou already has a confidence that's reinforced by her family members, who tell her, "If my mind believes it can happen, my body will believe it, too." This book will appeal to middle-grade readers who like fast-paced, lighthearted stories. Maggie Lou's connection to her immediate and extended family, her awareness of her Native roots and the Northern Michif language (glossary included), and her interests, which are not constrained by gender norms, give these tales a distinctive and refreshing flavor.

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2023

(1) K-3 Illustrated by Yaara Eshet. Cohen's inventive picture book uses graphic-novel conventions and is wordless but for the front and back matter and Hebrew and Aramaic text incorporated into the illustrations. It opens with a definition: the afikomen is a piece of matzo broken off early in the Passover Seder to be eaten at the end of the meal. The varied traditions associated with the afikomen (hiding it, stealing it, play-acting with it) are detailed in an appended author's note, but first comes an adventure that leans into the playfulness of this child-friendly part of the Seder. Eshet's appropriately springtime-hued ink and watercolor panels provide clues (including text in the open Haggadah in front of each guest) indicating where in the proceedings we are. The matzo is split, and as the family members launch into telling the Passover story, their dog hides the afikomen under the table. Three children follow...and find themselves in biblical Egypt among the enslaved Jews and playing a role in aiding baby Moses after his mother and sister place him in a basket on the Nile to save his life. All ends well for baby and travelers in a generally lighthearted tale, but one that nods at the more serious history behind the holiday and at the concept of reliving the Jewish enslavement on Passover.

Reviewer: Shoshana Flax | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2023

(1) K-3 Translated by Mary Ann Corbiere. Illustrated by Joshua Mangeshig Pawis-Steckley. A lyrical text written in Anishinaabemowin and English tells about the journey of a seed and of an ecosystem. "A seed is a story you can hold in your hand." The mnoomin seed travels first in the waterways, where it remembers Mayfly, who fed Pike, "who in turn nourished the earth below"; Eagle, who makes sure Muskrat does not eat "more than the field could bear"; and Moose, who "uproots crowding plants" by walking through the water. When the seeds sprout in the water, their leaves provide hiding places for small fish and protection for Duck and her ducklings on shore. Luby's reverent text then describes the traditional method of harvesting what grows. The winnowed grains are danced upon, washed, roasted, and eaten. Some are stored, and some sown for future harvest. Pawis-Steckley's vibrant color palette captures the hues of sunlight throughout the story as well as the lush flora and fauna and the warmth of the human interactions. Notes about the balance of the ecosystem and about the book's use of language are appended.

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2023

(1) K-3 Illustrated by Crystal Smith. The unnamed narrator's grandfather has died, and her mother is taking her on a trip he had planned for them, to the ocean to see his beloved whales. The girl doesn't want to go, but she packs up her stuffed whale and draws whales in the condensation on the car window while the pair drives to the coast. They transfer to a kayak and paddle to the island, where they camp. Illustrations with watery backgrounds blur the line between sea and sky, showing mother and daughter in fog and rain, at twilight and dawn--in liminal moments that echo their grief. There is wonder here too. A stunning spread shows the kayak from below, glowing moon jellies surrounding the boat and the light of the sky filtering down deep. Night falls, and the girl is disappointed that they still haven't seen any whales, but they build a fire, boil noodles and toast marshmallows, and discover bioluminescence when they rinse their hands in the salt water. "Why are there more stars here? Is grandpa up there?" They're just getting ready to sleep when they hear the "pushhhhh" of humpbacks surfacing. They can't see them, but they can hear them, a metaphor for all we can't see that is still present in our lives. A tender testament to love and loss-..

Reviewer: Adrienne L. Pettinelli | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2023

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Todd Stewart. "Listen! / Lake Superior / sings a winter song." Getting all bundled up, two children set off early on a cold morning to go ice skating. Fog rises from mysterious Superior, and along the way they find wolf tracks, but the older sibling can tell that the tracks are old, a "story" written in the snow. Canadian author Pendziwol writes evocatively about the immense and imposing lake and the sounds the ice makes vibrating under the children's feet as they skate: "mysterious magical music / as old as the earth... / We join the song, / skating / on the wild ice / of a vast / inland sea." (She also makes sure to mention that the ice on the lake is very thick.) Illustrator Stewart uses a range of blues and greens, from the intense turquoise of the frozen lake to a chilly blue against the snowy whites. His technique of drawing digitally, editing in Photoshop, and adding textures with scanned screens gives the book a vibrant and often majestic feel, ending with a wolf looking straight at the reader.

Reviewer: Susan Dove Lempke | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2023

(2) PS Illustrated by Dasha Tolstikova. While hiking, Annabelle and her father discover a bone. "'A bone from an animal?' Annabelle asked." At home they give the bone a good scrub, and Annabelle ties a ribbon around it. She takes "Boney" to the park and pushes it in a swing, and slides down the slide with Boney in her lap. That night she dreams about the deer, bear, or wolf that Boney might have come from, and she wakes up feeling sad. She buries Boney in her yard and recites a poem she creates for the occasion: "The deer and the bear and the wolf are running. And I am running with them." The story closes with Annabelle and a friend going to the park together. Fagan's storytelling is simple but deeply felt. The direct prose, much of it dialogue, and Tolstikova's childlike ­mixed-media illustrations convey the emotional depth of the seemingly small experience and Annabelle's thoughtful nature.

Reviewer: Maeve Visser Knoth | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2022

(2) PS On the title page, Sydney, a towheaded boy, stands smiling beneath a tree, but when the story starts, he is no longer in sight. Now up in the tree, he answers his friend Sami when she calls him: "I'm not Sydney. I am a sloth." And that is what the picture shows: a smiling sloth hanging by all fours from a branch. Sami, who has a long, curly tail of black hair, then scampers up the tree, declaring that sloths are too slow and that she would rather be a spider monkey; and in the next picture we see a monkey leaping for a branch, with a curling tail behind her. They are joined by more friends--Edward (an elephant), Anamaria (an anteater), and Brigitte (a bat). As soon as the elephant sprays them all with his trunk, they are portrayed as children again, with Edward holding a hose. Gay (Mustafa, rev. 9/18) uses watercolors, pencil, and white ink to give each animal a distinct look in a landscape filled with lively details and motion. The story continues to blend realistic events with imaginary ones as the diverse group of children return to their homes, eat supper (Sydney eating "fresh juicy leaves"), and head to bed--except for the un-sleepy Brigitte ("It was time to fly out into the night"). A well-paced, funny adventure that will likely inspire children to decide which animal they'd choose to be.

Reviewer: Susan Dove Lempke | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2022

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Marjolaine Perreten. Pauvre Pauline! The eldest of three (soon to be four) children in a lively bilingual (French/English) household, she needs a reprieve from the family chaos. Cozy setting details such as family photos and comfy, rounded forms make her home feel like a loving one in Perreten's busy paneled cartoon-style ink drawings, but Pauline longs for a place that's "just mine." She finds sanctuary in a closet under the stairs. "Here, I have my cushions, my books by the ­Countess of Ségur, my cacti, my glass marble, and above all...silence!" Inspired by her books, she imagines fantastic adventures but grows lonesome and worries that no one realizes where she is. Instead of immediately joining her noisy family, Pauline concocts a plan to hop aboard a ship to visit her grandmother in France. Before she can stow away, however, her mother invites her to work in the garden. The flowers will bloom in the hues of the French tricolor, but it's her mother's undivided attention that truly entices Pauline to feel that she's in the right place after all.

Reviewer: Megan Dowd Lambert | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2022

(2) PS Though wearing bright yellow pajamas that exude cheeriness, Cat wakes up in a gloomy mood, seemingly unaware of the sun shining through the window. Luckily, Dog knows how to let friend Cat have all the feels. This wordless picture book tells a gentle story with a powerful message: it's okay to feel down, and it's okay to get help. Double-page spreads convey our protagonist's frame of mind: one spread shows Cat after waking, ­sitting with downcast eyes, the bedroom a pool of blurry, gray shadows. Small vignettes denote action: seven scenes on a single spread show Dog's quick discernment of Cat's glum mood and wise decision to sit quietly nearby. When Cat, hiding under a blanket, invites Dog in, the vignettes become larger, making viewers feel they've joined the friends in their cozy cave. A final spread expresses Cat's emotional state at the end: after a lovely playtime, Dog secures some snacks and the two friends sit on the blanket together, looking out the window at the beautiful day. Ohi deliberately includes Cat's light-blue blanket in virtually every scene--an ever-present sign of clear skies to come.

Reviewer: Jennifer M. Brabander | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2022

(2) PS A child and father spend the day together on a tugboat, guiding a log boom to a Vancouver sawmill. After the boom ("a collection of floating logs") is assembled, the father and child set out, pulling the massive boom behind them. They steer wide around a tanker; encounter a swell that lifts the boom, causing the loss of a log; spot a deadhead (a partly submerged log); and hurry to reach the river before the tide turns, pulling "anything that isn't anchored or tied up...out to sea." The first-person narration is simple and specific, introducing young readers and listeners to terms of the trade (a helpful glossary is appended). The eye-catching large-format ink and pencil illustrations, colored in Photoshop, use a blue, green, and brown palette. It's an outing full of fun, but the child is truly helpful, too, and is duly appreciated by Dad: "Thanks, buddy!" The story ends with the narrator declaring, "Maybe I'll drive the tug one day." Front endpapers feature a large map of the rivers and inlets around Vancouver; back endpapers provide a diagram of the different elements of the boom. An appended "Dear Reader" letter from the author provides additional information and raises questions about climate change and sustainability.

Reviewer: Dean Schneider | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2022

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Milan Pavlović. "If I were the sun, I would sing a gentle morning song," begins Storms and Pavlović's (Moon Wishes) second collaboration, which invites readers to ponder what they might see and do if they were the sun. Storms's meditative, poetic text contrasts with Pavlović's lively mixed-media illustrations, creating a bracing whole. Writer and artist each demonstrates deliberation and care in their choices. Storms respects young readers' intelligence with juicy vocabulary (jubilant, vivid, tapestry, revel, luminous). Pavlović feeds their curiosity with specific imagery. A variety of people and creatures that are seemingly leading interesting, full lives are depicted in particular landscapes: a bear catches fish; people go sledding and make snow angels; etc. Almost every illustration is a color-filled double-page spread that includes enough detail and suggests enough activity to be its own story, which is exactly what the sun would see as it goes about its day--story after story after story. The sun's day is technically never done, but parents of young children won't mind the closing suggestion that the sun "would rest peacefully at the end of a busy day...knowing tomorrow I would shine once more."

Reviewer: Adrienne L. Pettinelli | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2022

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Akin Duzakin. This thought-provoking and haunting picture book is set in an unnamed city of gray buildings pushing smoke into a red cloud–lined sky. Soldiers occupy the town, and one day they take the young narrator's father and brother away. A curfew is announced from a loudspeaker: "Anyone out on the street will be shot." The curfew is lifted for one hour each morning, and children gather in the park while armed soldiers patrol. At night, the narrator tries to keep his little sister from crying and longs for his father and brother's return. He wishes that the people in the street could fly away when the gunshots ring out. Then, in the park with his friends, the narrator watches the wind in the trees and gets an idea: he makes a bright yellow kite in the shape of a star and flies it at night, where it soars above the rooftops and is soon joined by other kites. This story of resilience in the face of terror and loss brings to life situations that too many children worldwide are forced to live through, providing an important opportunity for processing the toll of war and political instability on families, communities, and children. The illustrations create a mood of fear with grayscale and shadow, while moments of hope and community are represented in the bright yellow of the kites, an effective visual metaphor. This rich story is an impressive, heart-rending representation of a child's struggle to retain innocence and optimism in the face of brutal forces outside of his control.

Reviewer: Autumn Allen | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2021

(2) K-3 A remote farmhouse survives the seasons alone, closing its back shutters against the strongest winds. When a new house is built nearby, the house shutters that side of itself, too, the better to ignore the interloper. As more homes are built--an entire neighborhood, in fact--our solitary protagonist shuts itself off entirely. Eventually, though, it realizes that the surrounding dwellings are providing it shelter, with their presence protecting against snowdrifts and harsh winds. Even better, warm light comes from the windows at night, and friendly curtains flutter. The house discovers that the new neighbors are "big and small, beautiful, strange, solid, cobbled, high, low, narrow, wide, elegant and fascinating." Crangle's dramatic illustrations effectively convey the original dwelling's isolation as it sits small and square in one corner of a double-page spread. Wide, dark shadows fall across the pages as it fears the changes in its environment; as it discovers the good in its new surroundings, the house's emotional shifts are reflected in light-filled, bright-colored pages. Each house is a three-dimensional creation made from cardboard, paper, fabric, and wood, with alluring textures and colors. This is a child-friendly, approachable, and useful story that can serve as a springboard for conversations about fear of change--and the embrace of it.

Reviewer: Maeve Visser Knoth | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2021

(3) 4-6 ThinkCities series. Illustrated by Katy Dockrill. "The history of cities begins with water." Curtis clearly explains the process of transporting water from watersheds and aquifers to cities, mentioning the feats of engineering that have been developed over the centuries. Making effective use of real-world examples, she covers methods of distribution, the cost and danger of neglecting infrastructure, and the need for equitable and safe distribution of water resources. Featuring inclusive and diverse city scenes, the muted-color mixed-media illustrations ably support the accessible text. A glossary, "What can we do to help?" suggestions, related websites, and three recommended books are appended. A water-cycle diagram is included on the end papers.

Reviewer: Kitty Flynn

(3) K-3 Illustrated by Ken Daley. Joseph misses the camaraderie of shared meals at the refugee camp where he and his mother stayed until they were able to emigrate from East Africa (the glossary explains that he is Acholi). Now they live in a new city where "there are not enough people to eat with." Joseph invites his teacher, family members, and neighbors to come over for a meal, but only his neighbor Whoosh and her mother are able to come. Together, they enjoy a meal of traditional foods and settle into "a rhythm, a beat of people eating together, even if today it's only two more." The vibrant illustrations, full of color and movement (Whoosh is aptly named), nicely complement the poetic text.

Reviewer: Rachel L. Kerns

(2) K-3 Translated by Shelley Tanaka. Illustrated by Nathalie Dion. "He didn't need to huff or puff or blow the house down...The big bad wolf just walked in the door." With this chilling opening, a young girl describes the abuse she and her mother suffer at the hands of her mother's new partner. Pictured as a fairy-tale "big bad wolf" who stands on two feet and casts a menacing shadow, the abuser berates the mother when she is late, leaves bruises on the narrator's arm that she must hide with long sleeves, and enters the child's bedroom without her permission. "He paid no attention to a barrier made of wood." So the girl "built a fort made of bricks. I put it up around my heart," and she protects herself thus until the day she and her mother escape to a shelter for abused women and children. There, "the big bad wolf can huff and puff all he wants. This house will not fall down." The familiar folkloric language and motifs work brilliantly to describe a terrifying, but ultimately hopeful, story of domestic violence. The illustrations effectively convey a child's point of view. The wolf, for example, takes up more visual space than either the child or her mother. When the wolf is "spitting mad" and yelling at the child's mother, his large dark shape curves and looms over her, blocking any escape. Still, as difficult as the content is, a gentle palette of cream and yellow, with accents of red, gives the reader some respite and foreshadows the hopeful ending. A skillfully crafted, emotionally honest treatment of a very challenging subject.

Reviewer: Maeve Visser Knoth | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2021