PIE IN THE SKY

Mystified by a parental comment that the tree out in the new back yard is a “pie tree,” a child keeps watch through the seasons, noting the successive appearance of buds, leaves, flowers, visiting wildlife, and finally luscious cherries. Color conscious as always, Ehlert has the young narrator systematically note hues—“I see a blue jay feather with black stripes and a white tip. But no pie”—in typographical undertones beneath the larger main text. Once the cherries that have survived the birds and squirrels are picked, Dad turns them step by step into that promised pie—not in enough detail (particularly in the making of the crust) to be a true recipe, but mouth-watering all the same. Die-cut holes and half-pages disappear after the first spread, which makes them seem more of a come-on than an enhancing design feature, but Ehlert’s typically vivid collage art shines through such tricks. (Picture book. 6-9)