(2) K-3 Illustrated by Nathalie Dion. This wordless story follows a small bird as she perches on a snow-covered branch. When she sees a little red bud on one of the branches, she takes flight. Panel art from an aerial viewpoint shows her flying over the melting, greening landscape below. After a quick bath in a public fountain, she settles on a tree outside a drab apartment building. Through spot art combined with full spreads, the watercolor and gouache illustrations (finished in Photoshop) softly depict the emergence of life outside the apartment building as well as inside. As the tree buds and the bird begins to build a nest, the building itself appears to be waking up. The view into various windows reveals those inside taking notice of the bird and sharing their discoveries with others. An elderly lady dozing in a chair perks up; a girl takes the bird's picture with her phone; a child holds up their puppy for a better view. A bird feeder appears in the tree, along with blue eggs in the nest. By the time those baby birds fledge, the illustrations are bursting with spring--there are flowers, growing plants, green trees, and people bustling in and out of the building and interacting with one another. This thoughtful interpretation of the change of season and of human connection presents a variety of characters to follow and details to consider, while the wordless aspect provides the necessary space to enjoy the book slowly and thoroughly. Simultaneously published in French as Il était une fois un oiseau.

Reviewer: Julie Roach | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2023

(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

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Nathalie Dion. A dog starts its morning quietly, pretending to be asleep so it can hear its human call quietly, "Time to get up, Dutch." Then the two, a patchy mutt with bright eyes and perky tail and a redheaded young woman, spend the day working together in the garden. The plot is uncomplicated, the richness of the story coming from the affection between dog narrator and human companion and from their shared appreciation of the garden. Dutch uses expressive language to narrate the activities--"I roll in the dewy grass and breathe in the sweet, rich smells around me." The human clearly knows exactly what Dutch wants--a rest in the shade, a chance to sniff at new holes, and a romp in spray from the hose. "It's the bright time of year," says Dutch, and from the gorgeous front endpapers to the book's close Dion uses vivid greens and yellows to create that brightness. The scenes have the texture of chalk drawings, with smudges and lines blurring into the blooms on a tree, the indistinct edges of grass, and flowers crowding the garden walkways. This is a lovely celebration of a simple, perfect summer day shared between friends.

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

(2) PS Illustrated by Nathalie Dion. Pendziwol's quiet, first-person text references the natural world to express a wide range of emotions--hope, yes, and also loss, fear, bravery, and sadness. More mood piece than story, the text throughout creates a contemplative space for savoring lyrical language and reflecting on painterly, softly textured, striking art. The pictures' style is representative, yet eminently expressive, and readers will find much to explore within them as they shift between distant and close-up perspectives and interior and exterior settings. When the book opens, a cat (never mentioned in the text) accompanies the solitary child narrator from spread to spread as she plays indoors with her shadow ("sometimes / it disappears... / But it always comes back"). The scenes move to wintry outdoor settings, with the child making poetic observations: "I can hear the wind tell stories, / whispering / to the trees, / making them / laugh / and / sigh." Sometimes "the stories / howl / like wolves," threatening the tranquility, but the girl (now shown in a Red Riding Hood–like cloak) uses her own storytelling ability to keep the wolves at bay. Herein lies hope, as surely as it can be found in the titular cherry tree and the close companionship of a friendly cat.

Reviewer: Megan Dowd Lambert | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2020