Tag: nature

Endearing and Fun Creatures

Funjeepups: A Beautiful Song – written and illustrated by Michael Slack
Funjeepups: A Star Wish – written and illustrated by Michael Slack
Tundra Books, 2026

Three small creatures, named Dot, Button, and Dollop, live in the woods in relative harmony. Their adorable appearance is somewhere between a mushroom and an acorn, with pleasant human-like features. Urban life is totally foreign to them. When a problem arises, it is easily resolved. Like other children’s books with simplicity on the surface (for example this and this and this), there is some tension beneath. But here it is as easily addressed as children would hope, even if they suspect that sometimes an unexpected bird, or a cloudy night, are not the worst interruptions.

In Funjeepups: A Beautiful Song, the friends are about to enjoy their breakfast. When the bird shows up, they should hardly be surprised; they live in the woods. Nevertheless, although the bird’s song is beautiful, they just can’t leave well enough alone. They decide that the bird needs musical accompaniment and soon are lugging over a piano ingeniously created out of a log, as well as a flute, and extra berries. Then they need to curate a playlist. But the bird’s song seems to provoke some insecurity; their concert does not live up to their expectations. Maybe their song is so inadequate, that it is actually a “not-YET song.”

Trying to introduce philosophy in a children’s picture book risks turning an engaging story into a didactic exercise. That doesn’t happen here. Michael Slack strikes the right balance. When Button contemplates that “maybe beautiful thoughts make beautiful songs,” his idea doesn’t seem definitive. He’s just working through some doubts. There is a lot of background noise. When the bird alights on Dot’s drum, she is momentarily troubled. Eventually, they resolve the conflicts, and feel satisfied with the results.

A camping trip in Funjeepups: A Star Wish is filled with wonder. Away from civilization, or as close as their woodland home approaches that idea, they prepare to settle into their tent: “No huts. No beds. Just us outside all night.” Clouds that obscure the stars they hope to view are disappointing. No stars means no wishes. Wait, maybe a firefly could substitute for the invisible stars, creating the opportunity for a “bug wish.” There is more to anticipate, once the Funjeepups realize that the only thing they have to fear is fear itself.

The simplicity of the digital artwork is both appealing to children and consistent with the calm, Zen-like pronouncements of the characters. I could not help but notice a similarity to one of my favorite picture books about tiny creatures with inner lives, Vera Brosgol’s We Are the Little Guys. There doesn’t need to be a direct influence of one artist on another, since the concept of diminutive size and a sense of control or power are explored in so many classics. Funjeepups join in reassuring readers that a puzzling bird can suggest answers, and one form of light can stand in for another.

A Change of Season for the Acorn Villagers

A Cozy Summer Day – written and illustrated by Eliza Wheeler
Nancy Paulsen Books, 2026

The residents of Acorn Village, introduced in A Cozy Winter Day, are back, this time set to enjoy the summer. The snow is gone, as are the seasonal decorations and warmth-inducing foods.  While it may have seemed that winter defined this community, given the virtually instant sense of nostalgia that the coldest time of year produces, but the Hopps, McPaddys, Ms. Polly, and Hilda Hollow are adaptable. Snow books are a favorite genre of mine*.) The garden near their tree and mushroom-shaped houses is alive with vegetation. Herb the Rabbit is painting en plein air, the mother beaver is supervising Pip Hopp in the sandbox, and water activities in the brook or plastic wading pool are in full swing. It’s good to know that, regardless of the warmth and sunshine, an owl has still fallen asleep while reading a book.

As in the winter book, Eliza Wheeler’s text is simple, more focused on creating a mood than on plot development. She builds characters by giving them opportunities to express consistent personalities.  Ms. Polly, a porcupine, is not part of a nuclear family. Instead, she is benevolent figure who nurtures everyone, bringing her ice cream cart to a community picnic. The Popps have two dads, warmly accepted by everyone. The artistic Herb uses a wheelchair. The Otter kids, Leif and Pebble, live nearby, close enough to paddle over with an invitation to go for a swim. The water has the same quality of coziness as snow, although there is more emphasis on purpose-free leisure than in the earlier book. Summer is when the Acorn Villagers, like most people, have more extended time off from their normal, productive activities. Although they have certainly worked hard to cultivate that garden, and Polly churns her own ice cream.

The digitally-created pictures have plenty of bright color, with sunlight infusing every scene, until night falls.  Summer means camping. (image) The moon and stars are out as everyone brings blankets and lanterns, preparing for a restful sleep in simple tents.  The appeal of this kind of book, inhabited by personified animals, as in Richard Scarry’s Busytown (but see also here and here) is that the focus on setting and small details invites children to animate the story using their imagination.

*See here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here; phew!

In the Spotlight

Who Hid the Stars?: How Light Pollution Changes Our World– written by Valentina Gottardi, Maciej Michno, and Danio Miserocchi, illustrated by Valentina Gottardi, translated from the Italian by Sylvia Notini
Eerdmans Books for Young Readers, 2026

Sometimes books about environmental pollution adopt an all-or-nothing approach.  Given the grave dangers posed to our natural world, and the fact that books for children inherently require some simplification, this is not surprising.  In Who Hid the Stars? How Light Pollution Changes Our World, the authors’ and illustrator’s approach is more nuanced. The book’s premise is that artificial light is useful, but also involves potential damage to plants, animals, and humans. We are responsible for balancing the costs and benefits of technologies that make modern life possible, and for devising solutions to the negative effects they impose.

Graphic sophistication defines this work. Individual chapters present different species affected by artificial light. Small birds, such as the American robin, have their daily cycle of song and their search for food altered by the glare of streetlights. The crucial nest-building activities of swallows and sparrows is altered by lights that, in effect, mislead the birds in their selection of sites. “They may even choose streetlights or roof lights: though this protects them from nocturnal predators, they risk not being able to sleep at night if the light is too bright.” While the information is entirely accurate, there is an almost novelistic tone. Without personifying the birds, the authors convey a poignant note of empathy. Imagine choosing a home because of its appealing brightness, only to find that you are losing sleep! Some of the section titles are also poetic, such as “Confident Birds,” “Lost Birds,” and “Fatal Lights.”

Bats are on most readers’ top-ten nocturnal animals lists. The authors’ language clearly confirms that affection. “It’s not uncommon to spot a quick, silent movement in the nighttime air near a streetlamp – it may well be a bat…Some species, like the common pipistrelle,…feel at home in cities.”

The detailed section on fireflies demystifies their characteristic glow, explaining the chemical reaction that causes it.  While people enjoy watching them light up the night, these insects avoid predators as they “produce toxins that make them taste disgusting.”  As if you did not already identify with the fireflies’ dilemma, “In artificial lighting, fireflies often become disoriented, complicating their search for a mate and diminishing their own lighting…Only the luckiest fireflies can meet in the dark shadow of a building or in a dark hedge.  STEAM books do not have to sacrifice literary polish in order to educate children!

The aesthetic of this lovely work is varied. Much of the text, appropriately, is placed on a dark background, although some chapter, including “Perennial Leaves,” feature predominately green against a bright yellow. There is even a slight steampunk element in some of the pictures, with Victorian curving lines, and the ornate antique lamps of “Night Lights.” Finally, Valentina Gottardi makes a definitive statement about the importance of the “A” in STEAM books with several two-page spreads depicting an illuminated, or semi-illuminated, world. These are untitled. Their meaning is implicit, as they contextualize the science in the book in both the natural and human-constructed world. Look at the owl peering down from the balcony, and the white articles of clothing hanging from a laundry line. A minimal number of yellow and gold lights emerge from streetlamps and the windows of homes.  Light is wonderful, but it needs to be employed with respect and care. 

What If I Never Fly?

Fly Like a Bird – written and illustrated by Olga Ptashnik
Eerdmans Books for Young Readers, 2025

Breaking the mold may be a harsh-sounding metaphor for a children’s book about birds, which contains within itself a story of natural insecurity and a parent’s reassurance. Fly Like a Bird does actually break a mold in the “STEAM” books genre.  The text and the artwork, by Olga Ptashnik, are both wonderful.  Children, and adults, will also learn a lot about a wide range of birds.

A young chickadee expresses concern about the possibility that she will never accomplish the daunting task of learning to fly. Ptashnik captures the inner life a child with her words: “I can flap my wings, but I can’t fly. I’m just a tiny little bird…What if I never learn to fly?”

Right away, children will be drawn to the book’s tone and central idea. The question-and-answer format alternates black and blue font, as the parent answers with accessible information about different birds and their unique qualities. Digital artwork produces the colors of nature: green, gray, blue, black, red, in different shades.

Hummingbirds are tiny; how do they produce the intense vibrations that give them their names, and also find nectar to drink? Penguins can’t fly, but their speedy swimming more than compensates for this unusual difference. The young bird processes the information: “Oh, so they fly underwater! But is it possible to fly in both the water and air?”

The peregrine falcon images bring the reader to a more human-populated location, as they fly high above elegant buildings and swoop down with incredible speed.

Each picture is composed to invite focus on different aspects of the scene. A large falcon appears commanding, hovering over the rooftops.  A chain of apparently connected birds descends, and more distant birds appear smaller as they alight on structures and rise up further into the sky.  Ptashnik anthropomorphizes a bit more here, breaking the fourth wall. The young bird expresses feelings of vulnerability associated with humans: “…but I don’t want to hurt other birds! How can tiny birds like us protect ourselves from predators?”

A flock of starlings forms a “murmuration,” as “Thousands of birds stay synchronized without any conductor.” Again, the varying scale of the scene elements are a quiet drama.  On the ground, a person riding a bicycle appears very small. Above, the murmuration is a symphony in motion. I was reminded of the fish learning about solidarity in Leo Lionni’s Swimmy.

The book concludes with two pages summarizing the star players, from hummingbirds to black-capped chickadees.  Everyone eventually learns to fly, swim, swoop, and find nectar, when the time is right.

Invitation to a Voyage

Journey of the Humpbacks – written by Juliana Muñoz Toro, illustrated by Dipacho, translated from the Spanish by Lawrence Schimel
Eerdmans Books for Young Readers, 2025

Although this fabulous informational book about humpback whales has not relation to Baudelaire’s poem, “L’invitation au voyage,” I could not help thinking of its title and famous refrain when I turned the first page.  The author states her purpose: “This is an invitation for us to go on a journey. We don’t need a backpack or shoes. Just our eyes wide open.” Every book fits this description. By framing the experience of reading this way, Juliana Muñoz Toro raises expectations and meets them. Baudelaire invites readers to encounter a world where “Là, tout n’est qu’ordre et beauté,/Luxe, calme et volupté,” (“There, there is nothing but order and beauty,/Richness, calm and beauty.”) Instead of dream world, Muñoz Toro, and illustrator Dipacho, extend an invitation to the natural order and beauty of the environment.  Science books for young readers need not omit a sense of wonder.

I won’t try to summarize the wealth of information in this book about the often misunderstood sea mammal, the humpback whale, otherwise known as Megaptera novaiangliae. Did you know that its Latin name means “giant-winged New Englanders?” Probably not, even though you may associate whales with New England, where this one was originally sighted by Europeans.  To orient you on your journey, Dipacho’s elegant graphics, paired with captions, text boxes, and color judiciously added to black-and-white.  Some of the questions even present the answer upside down, adding the sense of a game.  To help you envision scale, a parade of Emperor Penguins sits atop the huge creature, whose principal features are carefully labeled.

If you come to the book with some basic knowledge of humpback whales, you will still learn a great deal. Nothing is necessarily obvious, including the basic fact that every part of the environment is related to one another. “Nothing that happens in the water does so in isolation.”  “Lunch time” involves a nutrients provided by algae, sardines, and krill.

The pictures are meticulously accurate, but also personify the whales a bit, with their balletic movements that seem almost joyful.  Referring to the segments of their day as “nap time, “ “time for adventures,” and, of course, “time to breathe,” sets a tone of familiarity, but also awe: “The breathing of humpback whales is long and deliberate, as if they were meditating.” Note the phrase “as if.” 

When people appear, they are comically observant, watching the whales and taking notes of what they see. Here Dipacho presents richer colors than in the extensive factual scenes, as he brings humans into the picture.  They are important and provide perspective, but they don’t compromise the whales’ starring role. In fact, a wonderful two-page spread categorizing the baleen whale family (image) identifies the humpback, with a touch of humor, as “the protagonist of this book.”  Another concise and complete section on the whale’s reproductive life is, again, accurate and also performative.

Steps numbered in sequence give the facts and also allow the reader to draw her own conclusions. “She alone will take care of her offspring.” The “Have You Wondered” section reveals how a calf learns to identify its mother.  The book’s backmatter declares that it was created by “a team of people who love whales.” By this point, you will not have any doubt of that essential fact.

The Year Is a Circle

Lights at Night – written by Tasha Hilderman, illustrated by Maggie Zeng
Tundra Books 2025

There are two families observing the rhythms of the year in Lights at Night. One is human and the other canine, specifically foxes.  Dream-like images with changing shades of color include realistic details, both natural and cultural.  Children experience the wonder, but also the reassurance, of the four seasons and their special features, from football in autumn to storms in spring. While the fox family does not kindle holiday lights around the time of the winter solstice, they also appear to respond to the changes.  Tasha Hilderman’s soothing poetic text complements Maggie Zeng’s visual immersion in the excitement of one year. Children find joy, not boredom, in the repetition of familiar events.

A powerful storm is just unsettling enough to make the shelter of home more of a comfort.  Crayon drawn strikes of lightening emanate from a house, enclosed in a photograph, and also cross its border.  Inside, a strong of lights and beds configured as tents add the sense of drama that children like. Note the plush fox in a small sleeping bag. The fox family lacks the domestic props, but is just as attuned to the environmental changes. Of course, animals’ lives are more closely defined by the seasons. In spring, “new babies arrive with the stars.”

Campfires come in summer; riding the bus to school and harvesting wheat are tied to autumn. One of my favorite images in the book is a natural and unobtrusive celebration of multicultural holidays.  Christmas trees, Diwali lights, a Muslim family welcoming visitors, and a Kwanzaa lamp grace the neighborhood, along with a Jewish family’s observance of Chanukah. If you look closely, you will see that the correctly depicted nine branch chanukiyah (menorah) has its candle farthest to the left partly obscured by the window frame.  This is not an error, just a small visual element lending authenticity to the way in which someone placed the lights, which must be visible from the outside.

At the end of the book, the two children share an album and a box of crayons. The volume is open to the photo with lightning, enhanced by the children’s artwork. The actual fox looks up the moon.

The Other Side of Trouble

Trouble Dog: From Shelter Dog to Conservation Hero – written by Carol A. Foote, illustrated by Larry Day
Eerdmans Books for Young Readers, 2025

There is a lot of action in Trouble Dog. There is also an abundance of information, a likeable main human character, and a surprising amount of humor.  Carol A. Foote has combined two real-life conservation dogs into one fictional hybrid named Tucker.  Caught in a cycle of adoption and rejection, he is always returned to the animal shelter that has given up on placing him. Then, along comes Laura, a classic heroine who refuses to give up on an unlikely pet who has driven everyone else to distraction. Larry Day’s pictures are full of action and color, setting a motion Laura and Tucker’s journey from trouble to success.

The opening end papers introduce Tucker in some typically frenetic canine activity. Then it escalates, as every home the shelter finds for him is subjected to chaos.  Tucker manages to overturn an aquarium and books in one place. He grabs a girl’s sweater and won’t let go. A man attempting to read his newspaper looks enraged as Tucker grabs it and leaves a litter of overturned items in his wake.  When we next see him, Tucker is a lonely prisoner in a cage, “watching everyone pass him by.”

Laura is a sturdy figure with a ponytail, flannel shirt, and jeans.  She is as no-nonsense as Mary Poppins, and she also intuits something about Tucker that everyone has missed. His energy can be put to good use.  Even though her home is quickly as disordered as every other place Tucker has been, she has a vision and the practical sense to implement it.  Dogs, as readers learn in Foote’s detailed backmatter, have a highly developed sense of smell.  Laura observes Tucker carefully and evaluates his routine and abilities.  She isn’t just kind and patient, but methodical, as well. 

Eventually Tucker gets a job, or a series of jobs. The details in the text are embedded in words as colorful as the pictures. “Tucker’s first job was to find rosy wolf snails in Hawaii.” (image). He travels the world, sniffing out “moon bears in China, mountain lions in Chile, and elephants in the jungles of Myanmar” in a narrative as exciting as one by Jules Verne, but rooted in the truth.  In a two-page spread, Tucker crosses the gutter between pages. An elephant marches ahead of him, dwarfing the dog in size, but not in energy.  Three researchers form a determined row in the background, to his left.  The image captures the cooperation necessary for Tucker to succeed in helping scientists to learn about species in need of protection.

Not every outing produces results easily. In Zambia, Laura’s optimism is tested, looking for cheetah scat and coming up short.  When Laura insists that “I trust Tucker,” who finally leads them to the right location, she is not relying only on her affection for the dog. Through hard work and astute decisions, she and Tucker have become a team.

Four pages of additional information and photographs are organized in a question-and-answer format, giving the bigger picture of how conservation animals, as well as other service animals, provide essential services.  A selected bibliography is accompanied by an oval portrait of Laura and Tucker relaxing at home. I hope that no one misses one title, by Alexandra Horowitz, Inside of a Dog: Young Readers Edition: What Dogs See, Smell, and Know. Just parenthetically, the title refers to the famous quip usually attributed to Groucho Marx: “Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside of a dog, it’s too dark to read.”  It’s definitely not too dark to read inside this book.

Learning from Color

A Universe of Rainbows – poems selected by Matt Forrest Esenwine, illustrated by Jamey Christoph
Eerdmans Books for Young Readers, 2025

To paraphrase Mark Twain oft quoted remark about the weather, everybody talks about STEAM (science, technology, engineering, arts, and mathematics), but nobody does anything about it.  A Universe of Rainbows is a picture book that fulfills the ideal of combining education about these seemingly disparate fields.  An anthology of poems rooted in rainbows and color, it includes works by well-known authors and others whose work may be less familiar.  Each poem is accompanied by a boldly colored illustrated, and by a column of informational text. The breadth and range of the content and styles is amazing.

Virtually any selection gives a sense of the book’s approach. A poem by prolific author Marilyn Singer, “Rainbows in a Cage,” warns of the dangers of extinction caused by the voracious pursuit of rainbow finches: “They wanted rainbows in a cage:/finches stolen from the wild./A different time, a different age.” Singer uses the poetic form of the triolet, while other poems in the collection are composed in free verse.  This compact form, using only two different rhymes, is perfect for conveying her message.  The birds’ beauty does not excuse their exhaustion by selfish collectors. At the same time, she contextualizes the events by noting that different standards have applied in the past.  Jamey Christoph’s picture of the sought-after birds sitting on branches shows the bright and pastel colors that attracted collectors.  The explanatory text gives historical background and summarizes the results of the birds’ popularity: “the demand for Gouldian flinches became so great they were nearly trapped and caged out of existence.”

Lee Wardlaw points out the unfairness of judging a species only by its obvious beauty in “The Fruit Fly’s Secret.”  Yes, butterflies are lovely, but “just because/they flit and flirt/on wings of rainbow hues” they have deflected attention from the equally significant fruit fly.  Viewed under a microscope, the colors of these insects are revealed, elevating them from their lowly habitats in “drains and sinks and mops” or rotting fruit.  The text box describes how photomicroscopy documents how they refract light, and also interacts with the poem itself.  Wardlaw includes quotes from different authors extolling the beauty of butterflies; the text refers back to the poem by attributing each quote (Victor Hugo, Oscar Wilde, Bashō, and more).

Editor Matt Forrest Esenwine’s own poetry is also part of the book. “Alien Fountain” responds with awe to the unexpected phenomenon of the Fly Geyser, a “peculiar/accident/that could/only have/been created/by human ignorance/and Nature’s/resilient/soul.”  This result of an energy company’s drilling for geothermal water in the 1960s produced a strangely stunning appearance, captured in Christoph’s illustration.  The algae growing on mounds of limestone caused an explosion of color, “giving the geyser its otherworldly appearance.” As in all the explanations, concise presentation of facts works in parallel with literary language.

I cannot recommend this book highly enough.  It sets a high bar for authors and artists aspiring to link science and the arts without sacrificing aesthetic and linguistic distinction.