I have long been a fan of the superb artwork of Wendell Minor, and Daylight Starlight Wildlife is yet another winner in his long list of children's publishing accomplishments. It's a simple book, suitable for young preschoolers, yet full of understated depth in both prose and illustrations.

Minor explains and contrasts the variety of wildlife that surrounds us night and day, painting spectacularly luminous images such as a red-tailed hawk soaring over the treetops and a barn owl swooping through a full-moon night. These images are realistic, yet appealing―without ever being anthropomorphic or overly cute―containing scenes of mothers and their young and solitary animals making their way through the wilderness. A raccoon leads her cubs through swaying stalks of grass. An opossum forages as her family clings to her back, the bristling hairs of their fur begging to be touched.

Unlike some creators of this genre, Minor never talks down to his audience. Each page contains one stately sentence, for instance: “As the sun rises, stealthy bobcat and her kitten scope out the summer landscape.” As an informative nature guide, he also adds a short section of fun facts at the end.

At both its beginning and conclusion, Daylight Starlight Wildlife asks readers to consider the wild visitors that may lurk outside. “Look and listen,” the artist urges. Whether they’re searching for wild turkeys, swallowtail butterflies, luna moths, skunks or flying squirrels, young readers will be ready to do just that.

Behold! a Baby by Stephanie Watson tackles the age-old theme of sibling rivalry and manages to solve one family’s conflict within the colorful pages of an appealing picture book.

While daddy tells the world about the spectacular and marvelous new baby, big brother does everything he can to deflect the attention back to himself. After all, he already knows how to smile, eat bananas and speak, and he does it with aplomb! But no one seems to notice big brother’s superior nature until the baby blurts out his first incomprehensible babbles, “Diggy, dubby, bubby.” There is only one creature on the planet who is able to comprehend this cryptic and inscrutable piece of alien infant-speak. Yes, now it’s big brother’s turn to shine.

Apparently, “Diggy, dubby, bubby” loosely translates to “I want my big brother.” Big brother’s ability to understand his phenomenal sibling is proclaimed a miracle and lauded by all. The family realizes that the only thing as remarkable as a new baby is a big brother! After the big brother has received the requisite amount of positive feedback for his amazing feat, he becomes his best self. That simple, relatable truth is something every parent and child will be able to understand.

Artist Joyce Ang’s animated and expressive illustrations capture both the angst and joy of raising young children.

Billie B. Little is the Founding Director of Discovery Center at Murfree Spring, a hands-on museum in Murfreesboro, Tennessee.

Along the busy sidewalk of the bustling world, behind hurrying grown-up legs, stoplights and storefronts, the little girl in the red jacket discovers a treasure: flowers. There are dandelions in the concrete crevice of a pole, purple blooms in the sidewalk cracks, blossoms against the brick buildings. As she gathers her overlooked treasures, hints of color begin to pop from the black-and-white illustrations: the colored pattern of a woman’s dress; glass bottles in a storefront window; yellow taxicabs; and little brown sparrows. The little girl shares her bouquet, laying flowers on the breast of a dead bird, tucking them into the collar of a dog and weaving them into her mother’s hair. As the girl and her father travel from the city to the park and home, the world blossoms into full color.

With Sidewalk Flowers, poet JonArno Lawson and illustrator Sydney Smith prove themselves masters of a beautiful, unique art: the wordless picture book. Lawson and Smith—both with multiple awards to their names—are an inspirational team, telling a story so compelling and complete, the reader forgets they are “reading” in silence. Without words to weigh it down, Sidewalk Flowers unfolds naturally and gracefully, letting the reader’s imagination take over; car engines and cell phone chatter fade out of focus as we begin to observe from the child’s perspective. With a gentle, deft hand, Lawson and Smith strike the perfect balance of thoughtful message and childlike wonder.

Like wildflowers in a freeway ditch, Sidewalk Flowers stands out on the bookshelf with its simple message and gorgeous illustration. But perhaps the most special thing about this book is what happens in your world after it leaves your hands.

In this lyrical look at the water cycle, Miranda Paul explores the many forms water can take. Jason Chin’s lush illustrations frame the story around a brother and sister, their family and friends through all the seasons of one year. 

“Water is water unless . . .” Paul begins. It’s liquid unless “it heats up” and becomes steam. Steam is steam unless “it cools high,” and then it’s a cloud. Thus Paul shapes the text, adding poetic touches on each spread: The steam whirls and swirls. The clouds could be dragons, even dragons in wagons. Her spare, inviting text uses meaty, descriptive verbs, altogether reading like a lovingly constructed poem. 

She even brings readers a few surprises—that is, stops not normally visited during a water-cycle discussion. For instance, we read about apples, which can be pressed for the water inside to create delicious cider.

Chin’s watercolor-and-gouache illustrations are beautifully crafted. His autumn spreads nearly glow with many shades of orange; his summer spreads are filled with luxuriant greens; and his winter spreads are dotted with the colorful winter wear of the children against a stark, white background. 

Pair this excellent book with George Ella Lyon’s All the Water in the World, illustrated by Katherine Tillotson, and watch children get swept away by wonder. 

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.

This article was originally published in the June 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Whether your younger sibling is on the way or is 30 years old, it’s never too early or too late for Little Miss, Big Sis. 

Little Miss is ready to be a fantastic big sis. She tackles the diapers and drool with enthusiasm, dinner and mini-disasters with panache. She becomes baby’s best cheerleader, fort-builder, tear-drier, playmate—truly a big sis.

With numerous best-selling titles to both of their names, Amy Krouse Rosenthal and Peter H. Reynolds have complementary styles that make their books stand out on the shelf—and in readers’ hearts. Rosenthal (Little Pea) makes the most of every word; her precise rhyming language imitates a young child’s speech pattern and keeps the message focused. Reynolds (Ish) is the master of charming, colorful sketches that entice the eye. While having a new baby in the house can be overwhelming, Reynolds’ skilled, kid-friendly illustrations present big changes in a cozy and approachable manner.

Little Miss, Big Sis is an excellent “big sibling” book for its simplicity and adorable, non-gushy sentiment. Being a big sis brings all kinds of excitement and adventure; it should also come with this book.

This article was originally published in the June 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

It takes a village, as they say, and in this case it takes one to help a young girl feel right at home.

A girl moves from the country to the city, where “instead of birds and crickets, she heard horns and trains.” Her new home may be “plain and gray,” like all the houses around her, but it happens to be next to a park, the same park of the book’s title. The girl misses the butterflies most about her home in the country, but when she enters the park to seek butterflies, none are there, despite the plate of cookies she’s brought to make a good first impression.  

She enlists the help of newfound friends, who snag some butterflies—but they all fly away. One, however, leads them all downtown, where doors are opened and curious townsfolk step out to join the butterfly search. After the girl sees flowers on her neighborhood romp, she is inspired to take flowers to the abandoned park. Once again, she fails to spot butterflies, but when her neighbors show up with flowers for planting, she realizes she’s finally at home. She’s found that she lives in a community of people who care about her, as well as about making their own town a place where things grow and thrive. They plant until the park is “brimming with flowers and laughter.”

Elly MacKay constructs this story with delicate cut-paper illustrations, sets of photographed dioramas that glow with light. The settings are intricate—the Butterfly Park entrance gate is a thing of beauty—and MacKay’s sense of composition is spot-on. Many moments in the story spread across two pages, and she avoids any of her paper pieces getting lost in the book’s gutter. The final spread is a gatefold, which opens up to reveal the new-and-improved park, filled with just the creatures the girl longs to see: Colorful butterflies fill the space, but best of all, it’s filled with the warmth of a community that cares.

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.

Beach House is the perfect read-aloud for a beach vacation, or for the middle of winter when a seaside trip is just a pleasant reverie.

It’s a windy day when the family arrives at the beach, and relaxation feels so close as the father stretches out his back after a long drive. But the colorful bags are unloaded and form a mountain on the floor, and no one is going anywhere until they’re all unpacked.

The family is full of anticipation for the sand and the sea, and even the dog clambers onto the windowsill. Finally, with the words “Let’s go!” the whole family parades to the beach, the dog leading the way and the father hidden by bags and inner tubes. Evocative language places readers instantly—“Breathe salt air. Squint at the sun.”—as wind froths the ocean into waves and the family frolics. The dog eyes a sidestepping crab.

As the blue sky darkens into a golden sunset, the parents stroll hand in hand and the children clamber on rocks, digging for clams and spotting starfish and sea urchins. Soon hot dogs are toasted over a seaside fire pit and consumed before bath and bed and dreams of tomorrow.

Author Deanna Caswell’s pleasant rhymes are easy on the ear, and illustrator Amy June Bates brings the pages to life with brilliant colors that are cheerful enough to bring home the beach, even on the rainiest of days.

Billie B. Little is the Founding Director of Discovery Center at Murfree Spring, a hands-on museum in Murfreesboro, Tennessee.

Spy Guy takes readers on a colorful romp through a little boy’s desire to become something he clearly is not—a spy! He is altogether too clumsy, too noisy, too squeaky and in all manners too un-sneaky to be a spy. Plagued by his own awkwardness, noisy shoes, the lack of a good disguise and a head cold, his goal of becoming a consummate spy seems unattainable.

Luckily he has the help of the Chief, otherwise known as his dad, who acts as his mentor and guru regarding all things “spyish.” Dad tells the boy that he must discover the secret of spying for himself, which in time, of course, he does, taking a cue from an eight-legged silent and stealthy creature.

The little boy may have started his mission to become a spy on a whim, but as the pages turn we learn how much trial, error and hard work goes into achieving a goal. Author Jessica Young (My Blue Is Happy) uses rhyme and repetition to emphasis the story’s message: “The secret to spying / Is never stop trying.” Charles Santoso, a prolific Australia-based illustrator of books and animated films, brings movement and a sense of play to the pages, particularly during the sneezing and burping scenes.

This is a fun blend of savvy parenting and on-point comedy.

Billie B. Little is the Founding Director of Discovery Center at Murfree Spring, a hands-on museum in Murfreesboro, Tennessee.

In this picture book debut from illustrator JiHyeon Lee, who lives and works in South Korea, readers meet a lone boy, staring at a large and empty pool. On the next spread, a boisterous and crowded group of children, complete with floats and beach balls, jump into the water, while the boy merely watches. The pool is filled to the brim, barely any room left for one more swimmer. The boy sits down at the pool’s edge and gets his feet wet, in more ways than one, slowly acclimating to the water—and, doubtless, all the people in it.

After he dives below the group of children, he meets a girl who has done the same. They swim together, playing on the ocean floor of their imagination. It’s here that Lee introduces color into the story. Whereas previously, readers only saw pale blue for the water and sepia tones for all the characters on cream-colored spreads, as the boy and girl continue to swim deeper, we see the bright reds, blues, greens and blacks of a vibrant world of creatures they see in their minds’ eyes. The fish they see brim with personality and character (and some with a slight, yet thrilling, menace), and they even meet a giant, fuzzy whale-esque creature that dwarfs them.

When all the children step out of the pool, our adventurous duo are still set apart from the others: They depart the pool to the right, while the crowd of loud children leave from the left. Next, readers see a lovely moment where the two remove their goggles and see one another for the first time above water. It’s clear they found their adventure exhilarating and will remain friends. (Introverts, unite!) In the funny final spread, one of the gaggle of children looks back at the pool and stares in confusion at the bright red and yellow creatures that have surfaced.

This is an enchanting story of wonder and friendship. Dive right in.

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.

Miss Hazeltine is a generous soul—and a cat lover. She’d have to be, since she’s opened her Home for Shy and Fearful Cats. Not sure at first if anyone will bring their felines, she’s surprised to find her house filled with them—ones that are scared of mice and birds, refuse to purr and can’t even pounce. Never fear: Miss Hazeltine is here to work her magic.

But it’s not actually magic she wields. Instead, it’s good old-fashioned patience and kindness: “Miss Hazeltine didn’t mind,” author Alicia Potter writes, “if some cats only watched. She let them be.” One of those cats is Crumb, who likes to hide under Miss Hazeltine’s bed. She gives Crumb some extra attention, and he only hopes one day he can muster up enough courage to thank her for her words of advice.

He gets his chance when Miss Hazeltine heads out one night to replenish the milk bucket and falls in a ditch. Worse yet, she’s fallen where there are owls, mushrooms and darkness, the three things that make her own daring dwindle. The spread where Crumb works up his courage to head out into the moonlight is an utter delight, as illustrator Birgitta Sif reveals his transformation with the smart use of line and shadow, not to mention copious white space so that Crumb gets all the attention he deserves. Sif, it must be noted, seems to be the go-to illustrator for books with shy protagonists. Many of her previous books have been about similar subjects, and she delicately captures the vulnerabilities of such characters.

Sif gives the many cat characters lots of personality, and she brings warmth to Miss Hazeltine’s comfy, ramshackle home. The book is filled with fun details: Look closely in one spread, and you’ll find Crumb hiding securely under a living room rug. In the end, where all of Potter’s story threads come together without a detail left out, Miss Hazeltine rests assured that her cat tenants did, indeed, learn to be “bold as lions.”

This is a sweet and winning story about courage found.

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.

Meet Daredevil Duck, who wants very, very much to be brave. Why, he’s just raring to swing from balloons high in the air or speed through the wilderness on his Super Speedy tricycle. He’s dressed for the part, too—decked out in his Hero Helmet, super-cool x-ray goggles and a Super Hero cape (which looks suspiciously like a tablecloth borrowed from the picnic basket).

Yes, Daredevil Duck definitely wants to be the bravest duck in the whole wide world. But sometimes (in fact, most of the time) he’s not.

For the truth is that the big wide world has lots of frightening things in it: things that are too dark or too fluttery, things too high or too wet. And that’s just for starters. The world is also full of other ducks who sometimes tease.

Then comes the day when Daredevil Duck forgets his own fears to perform a daring deed for a little mole. This success gives him the confidence and the belief in himself to try one new thing, and then another and another.

Daredevil Duck is British artist Charlie Alder’s first authored and illustrated picture book. She was inspired to create her hero’s antics by watching her own son careen around on his squeaky red tricycle. With its bright and colorful pictures and inventive use of flaps to entice young readers to turn the page, Daredevil Duck is a fun and appealing book perfect for any daredevil tricycle rider.

Deborah Hopkinson’s next book, Courage & Defiance, will be released this fall.

Tad the tadpole’s dad is a phenomenal frog. With large, noisy Dad as inspiration, Tad learns to sing loudly (especially early in the morning), swim fast and snap up flies with his sticky tongue. Tad follows Dad everywhere, preferring Dad’s lily pad to his own cozy pondweeds. But as Tad grows from happy tadpole to spirited frog, Dad’s lily pad gets smaller, as does Dad’s patience for sleepless nights.

It’s clear why David Ezra Stein has won so many awards for his children’s books. Every page of Tad and Dad swims with bold, colorful illustrations. Tad’s big-eyed, exuberant expressions convey his adoration and pride, while Dad’s sleep-deprived eyes will entertain any grown-up who has been woken by flailing toddler limbs. Stein easily and expertly captures the excitement of a growing child and knows how to make readers smile.

Whether it’s bedtime or storytime, Tad and Dad is meant to be shared by big and small, so gather your tadpoles, no matter how jam-packed your lily pad.

This article was originally published in the May 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Author Sara O’Leary and illustrator Julie Morstad invite us into a day in the life of Sadie, an imaginative young girl who loves diving into stories. In the opening illustration, Sadie is hiding inside a box, her head barely peeking above the top, but, as she tells readers, she’s actually on a giant boat, crossing the ocean.

Sadie has learned to be quiet while engaging in her grand adventures, because “old people need a lot of sleep.” Her room is the type of inspiring, chaotic mess that can only come from a child exploring the robust and active world of the mind. She’s not only crossing the wide sea, still in her pajamas—she’s also a mermaid; a wolf-child, à la Mowgli; and the “hero in the world of fairy tales.” (Refreshingly, she isn’t the damsel in distress; she’s the seeker on the horse, armed with a bow and some arrows.) Morstad sets off Sadie’s fantasies with lush full-bleed spreads, where white space takes a back seat to color and drama.

Sadie also has wings; they’re just “very, very hard to see.” Maybe readers have them, too. “Have you checked?” we read. These chummy moments where the narrator breaks the fourth wall are engaging and enjoyable. In a story all about one child’s whimsy, both author and illustrator manage to keep things from getting too cloying, and these moments of direct address are part of that charm.

Sadie’s days are never long enough, and readers may feel the same way about this story: It doesn’t overstay its welcome, and every moment is a pleasure. And don’t forget to remove the book jacket to see the surprise waiting on the cover.

Here’s hoping for more of Sadie’s adventures in the future.

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.

This article was originally published in the May 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.