SPRING

The team behind Autumn (1997) turns russet in for a spring-green coat in this paean that moves from April to June. Once again, the first letters of each line make a word that is the subject of the poem, e.g., “Green leaves overhead, a/Rug of green underfoot,/And the air between/Sweet with the green/Smell of spring” for GRASS. That page is a particularly fine microcosm of the book; the delicate poem, direct and detailed, appears on a page where the strong line of linoleum-cut illustration brings into relief a field of green seen from above, where the bold shapes of a girl and her dog lay on their backs to gaze up at the new leaves. There are longer words, too, such as “quintuplets,” delighting in five new kittens. Many of the images are rural: frogs, cows, a baseball game ringed by a field of corn. Others—hopscotch, welcoming a new baby, and watching the light fade to purple fire—will be familiar and comfortable to children everywhere. A playful refabrication of spring, likely to please as a word game, certain to please for its images. (Picture book. 3-9)