WHEN THE FIREFLIES COME

In image-rich, sometimes impressionistic prose, the prolific London captures sights and sounds of summer afternoons, then celebrates a game of baseball played in the gloaming until called by darkness. Widener composes an idyllic suburban setting of spacious, rolling lawns, across which four young neighbors gambol as the skies gradually darken, and fireflies come out to mingle with the stars. Before going back inside their homes to dream baseball dreams, the children open the jars of fireflies they’ve collected: “They flit like sparks from a bonfire at a marshmallow roast. They dance and flash and bounce in the dark air, then disappear among the stars. Good night, fireflies!” Along with Charlotte Zolotow’s atmospheric Summer Night (1991) or kindred idylls like Julie Brinckloe’s Fireflies! (1985) or Eleanor Schick’s One Summer Night (1977), this evocation of “The tinkle of ice in tall iced-tea glasses. The thong-thong of backyard badminton,” will bring back those hazy crazy days for any readers wondering whether winter will ever end. (Picture book. 7-9)