Environment Books

Progressive split pages capture seasonal rounds and communities of wildlife in natural habitats worldwide.

Even the Arctic in winter has a populous look as Robin generously strews six broad, painted-paper–collage landscapes with flora and fauna that are strongly reminiscent of Eric Carle’s in color and composition. Most scenes are presented in a sequence of four increasingly larger, overlapped pages, one per season, arranged so that seams between seasons are artfully aligned. If Pang’s simply phrased commentary can’t always keep up, so that some of the wildlife on display goes unidentified, still it offers informational nourishment. This is conveyed in both specific facts (“The ostrich is the largest, heaviest bird in the world”) and big-picture explanations of what’s going on (“Behind giant dust clouds and swirling water, the Great Migration is taking place across the Mara River”). Moreover, in laudable contrast to the general run of seasonal albums, the usual spring-summer-fall-winter sequence changes up after opening views in and around a European oak. Alaskan scenes begin with autumn, China’s Yellow Dragon Valley with winter, and along with the Arctic’s binary winter and summer, both a mangrove swamp in northern Australia and Kenya’s Masaai Mara accurately see only “wet” and “dry” seasons. Human presence is confined to occasional pleas to be mindful of wild places.

Plenty to see for young animal (and plant) lovers, plus an expansive view of the concept of seasons. (Informational novelty. 4-6) 

A broken-toy purge turns into an art-making session in this didactic look at recycling and reuse.

Kenya’s story begins when her mother orders her to get rid of all her broken toys, including the one she is currently playing with, a prize from her art teacher. In a narrative shift, Kenya asks her dad for homework help—she has to tell her class what she did for spring vacation: nothing. A walk to the park only reinforces how much better her classmates’ vacations have been. But a museum tour provides the spark: a quilt made with reused scraps and a sculpture: “This artist recycled used bottles and made something to look at. It’s not useful, it’s art,” says the docent. Kenya labels it a “thingamabob.” The whole family gets in on the act at home, making new things from old and creating art. Kenya makes her own thingamabob that is sure to have parents of packrats cringing: it’s a huge heap of broken toys anchored in a clay base. Mitchell’s detailed watercolor, graphite, and digital illustrations show a loving black family whose expressions are rather static. Kenya’s friends and classmates tick off the other racial and ethnic boxes for a nicely rainbow classroom: white twins, a black trumpet player, an Asian soccer player, a Latina teacher.

The emphasis on art as something that’s not useful and on holding on to items by branding them as art makes this one to miss. (Picture book. 4-8) 

The cadences of a familiar nursery rhyme introduce concerns about ocean garbage and what we, who made the mess, can do to help clean it up.

With the rhyme and meter of “The House That Jack Built,” Lord builds the problem of plastic waste in the oceans from the fish that must swim through it to a netted seal, a trapped turtle, and overflowing landfills before turning to remedies: cleaning beaches and bays, reducing waste, and protesting the use of fishing nets. Two pages of backmatter describe problems in more detail, while a third elaborates potential solutions; suggestions for individual action are provided as well. Blattman’s images begin with a racially diverse group of youngsters in a small boat in the center of a plastic trash gyre. The children, shown at different angles, bob spread by spread over trash-filled waters. To accompany the words, “Look at the mess that we made,” she adds a polluted city skyline and a container ship belching smoke to the scene. Finally, the dismayed young boaters reach a beach where a clean-up is in process. From their little skiff they help scoop up trash, rescue the turtle, and wave protest signs. The message is important, even vital in today’s world, but many caregivers and many environmentalists would eschew this doomful approach as a means of introducing environmental concerns to the early-elementary audience who might be drawn in by the nursery rhyme.

Well-intentioned but likely to overwhelm the intended readers and listeners. (map) (Informational picture book. 5-9) 

board-book primer outlines simple steps for changing environmental culture for the better.

On the opening double-page spread, the book gets straight to the pith of the matter, stating the first small but powerful habit that people can cultivate on a daily basis in order to protect and help heal the environment: “Change starts with...planting trees.” With just one sentence per double-page spread, the text goes on to present 11 more eco-friendly choices that readers can make. Most preschool-aged children will find some of the actions easily understandable, such as turning off the tap to save water and picking up litter. Other action items, like “saving power” (the artwork shows a brown-skinned caregiver hanging laundry on a clothesline as a brown-skinned boy clad in a superhero getup looks on) and “ditching the car” (in the accompanying illustration, a White adult and a group of children—three White, one brown-skinned—ride bicycles and a scooter), are not as accessible. As such, children will need adult scaffolding in order to grasp some of the ideas. The text’s use of anaphoric repetition creates emphasis and memorability. Beer’s cartoony digital illustrations are cheerful, busy, and colorful with a flat-planed, childlike look. They depict many different children with various skin tones and hair textures in settings that range from the beach and a garden to an animal farm and a farmers market.

A clarion call for individual agency in protecting the environment that’s suitable for the preschool set. (Board book. 0-3) 

Distressed by the problem of plastic-bag disposal, a Gambian woman organizes her neighbors to turn trash into treasure.

When Isatou Ceesay first discovered plastic bags in the Gambia in West Africa, in the 1980s, they seemed wonderfully useful and sturdy. But in her village, they soon became a nuisance, piling up in ugly dump areas where mosquitoes bred. Goats ate them and died. Her solution was to collect and clean used bags, cut them into strips and crochet the strips into useful plastic purses. These were sold at local markets and eventually internationally. Paul, who first went to the Gambia as a volunteer and has returned in other roles, tells this story in a straightforward fashion, deftly including words from the Wolof language and including details about Ceesay’s village life. A map, author’s note, glossary, timeline and excellent suggestions for further reading set this example of a woman who made a difference in a larger context. Fittingly, the collage illustrations make use of colorful papers and plastic bags. These reveal the labor involved and show the women’s joy in the results of their work.

Though Isatou Ceesay’s country may be unfamiliar to young readers, they’ve probably done some handicraft recycling of their own. The easy connection makes this a welcome addition to the small shelf of examples of ingenuity in developing nations. (Informational picture book. 5-8) 

n Anishinaabe grandmother teaches her grandchild that by close observation, the natural world of plants, insects, animals, and birds will reveal how to know when seasons change from one to the next.

Written in English and translated into Anishinaabemowin by the Corbieres, an Anishinaabe father and son pair, the story begins with the question, “Aaniish ezhi-gkedmaanh niibing? / How do I know summer is here?” This question is repeated for fall, winter, and spring, the Anishinaabemowin always preceding the English on the page. The grandchild learns how to recognize nature’s signs of the changing seasons by watching and paying attention. With easily understood explanations, the elder shows how nature accommodates plants and animals, birds and insects. “When yellow Bumblebee collects purple fireweed…blueberries drop readily, [and] the sun slips into an orange dream,” summer is here. The arrival of fall is signaled “when Mallard feasts on yellow corn, and Black Bear licks the ant pile clean”; winter is on its way when “gray Mouse sneaks inside for warmth”; and spring is heralded by “brown Peeper sing[ing], ‘Goodnight, little one.’ ” Luby draws on her Anishinaabe heritage and time as a child with elders as inspiration for this gentle intergenerational tale set in the present day. Ojibwe Woodland artist Pawis-Steckley renders the scenes with bold outlines and jewel colors, many figures gently styled with traditional designs. (This book was reviewed digitally with 8.5-by-19.5-inch double-page spreads viewed at 50.7% of actual size.)

In this lyrical, bilingual story, a grandmother’s knowledge reveals wonders. (Picture book. 3-8) 

Swampy Cree grandfather shows his grandson what it means to be connected to family and the land.

Moshom takes his grandson, the narrator, on a long journey to visit his boyhood home. He wants his grandson to see his family’s trapline, “where people hunt animals and live off the land.” To get there, they fly on a plane and go to a small house beside a big lake. “This is where we lived after we left the trapline.” They walk through a forest and see an old school building. “Most of the kids only spoke Cree, but at the school all of us had to talk and learn in English.” They travel in a small motorboat to an island, where “Moshom’s eyes light up.” He says, “That’s my trapline.” There are beaver dams and eagles and rock paintings. Moshom tells how everyone “slept in one big tent, so they could keep warm at night,” how even the youngest children had chores, and everyone shared the work. He tells how they caught muskrats, ate the meat, and sold the pelts “to buy…things you couldn’t get on the trapline.” Before leaving the island, the boy holds Moshom’s hand. His grandpa is quiet. “Kiskisiw means ‘he remembers.’ ” Swampy Cree words and their definitions conclude each page, summing up its themes. Robertson’s text is as spare as Flett’s artwork, leaving plenty of space for readers to feel the emotions evoked by both. (This book was reviewed digitally.)

The illustrations’ muted colors and the poetic rhythm of the words slow the world down for remembering. (author’s note, illustrator’s note, glossary) (Picture book. 5-10) 

When an abandoned house on her street is torn down, Marcy feels saddened by its loss. But then an idea strikes her: She enlists the aid of several grown-up neighbors and rents the vacant lot from the city for the price of $1. Working together with materials like leftover yellow paint and surplus wood, the residents create a community garden and plant it with a variety of flowers, fruits, and vegetables. Even Old Man Hammer, initially resistant to the plan and unwilling to help in any way, is drawn in by Marcy's goodwill and gentle perseverance. The illustrations, if not mesmerizing, capture the slightly gritty, faded look of the urban landscape adequately. The story is followed by a set of practical and helpful guidelines on how to start a community garden, which may inspire young green thumbs and civic-minded kids to get involved. An optimistic tale that manages to be both encouraging yet realistic about how to do some good in your very own backyard. (Picture book. 5+) 

In Mi’kmaq culture, honoring the interconnection among humans, plants, animals, and land is everyone’s responsibility.

In their debut picture-book collaboration, Elder Marshall (Mi’kmaq) and Zimanyi emphasize the power and importance of having the right relationship with the Earth and its many inhabitants. “When we walk together / in a good way on Turtle Island, / we learn we are all connected. / We are never alone. We need each other. Mawikwayk—Together, we are strong.” Alongside glowing, colorful illustrations from Anishnaabe illustrator Kewageshig, this tale goes beyond discussing mere environmental responsibility. Emphasizing intergenerational learning, Indigenous storytelling, and the wisdom of nonhuman life, Marshall and Zimanyi describe the concepts of Etuaptmumk (“Two-eyed seeing”) and Netukulimk (“protecting Mother Earth for the ancestors and for present and future generations”). These ways of Indigenous knowing underscore interdependence and reverence, helping young readers understand that “we take only if there is enough. / We ask before we take / and we listen for the answer. / We share.” Though the narrative is simply told, the deep lessons of Mawikwayk, Etuaptmumk, and Netukulimk will provide readers with much food for thought. Backmatter includes an acknowledgment of the late Mi’kmaq spiritual leader and healer Chief Charles Labrador, whose teachings are reflected throughout. (This book was reviewed digitally.)

A moving read to instill love and respect for the natural world. (Picture book. 4-10) 

 A young child enjoying a full day of cross-country skiing narrates this gentle tale, explaining both her own activities and what the animals are doing.

“Over the snow I glide, past beech trees rattling leftover leaves and strong, silent pines that stretch to the sky. On a high branch, a great horned owl keeps watch. Under the snow, a tiny shrew dodges columns of ice; it follows a cool tunnel along the moss, out of sight.” A deer, bullfrogs, beavers, a fox, mice, chipmunks, a bear and a bumblebee are among the other animal inhabitants of the “secret kingdom” under the snow; some are snoozing, some foraging and some hunting for the others. Backmatter includes an author’s note, a paragraph of information about each featured animal and a list for further reading. Neal’s two-dimensional mixed-media illustrations are minimal in both detail and color. Simple outlines give shape to the trees, animals and leaves, while white is the predominant color. The lyrical descriptions of the text and the gray/brown/ice-blue palette of the illustrations leave readers with a retro feel that harkens back to earlier days of children’s books and bygone times when life seemed simpler.

Utterly charming, and informative, to boot; readers brought up on a diet of rhymes, bright colors and adorable fluffy animals will find its simple beauty a balm. (Informational picture book. 4-8) 

A family enjoys the glorious sounds of the ocean until the sun sets.

Two children listen to, imitate, and frolic along to the sounds of the sea, from roaring waves to barking seals. Sometimes they stand still to savor the whooshing of a seashell held to the ear; other times, they leap high while mimicking the “skree, skree” of a seabird. As the day goes on, the smaller child grows sleepy until finally both children fall asleep in the arms of their grown-ups. Washes of muted jewel tones and soft pencil lines invite readers to enjoy oceanside delights. With just a few sentences per page, the narrative skips along with a focus on auditory perception. Although the cozy ending denotes a bedtime story, the impulse to imitate flying birds and scuttling crabs may serve as an energetic rather than soporific catalyst. The generalized text and illustrations allow for many to draw connections to their own oceanside adventures, but other readers may wonder, for instance, which species of seabird says “skree, skree.” The two brown-haired children, one with curly hair and the other with straight hair, have brown skin and dots for eyes. One grown-up has long blond hair and pale skin, and the other has brown curly hair and brown skin. (This book was reviewed digitally.)

A solid seaside escapade that will sit nicely alongside other books on the five senses. (Picture book. 3-5) A