Storm Bringer by Jan Yolen & Illus by Ted Lewin

Storm Bringer 

  It was a dry fall          

 and the corn stalks     

                    thrust through the crumpled earth

  like posts                    

  in a deserted palisade,

        The farmland felt beseiged

  And the kildeer came, 

by ones, by twos.      

                   They settled down in the furrows

  and walked the rows, 

  brown heads nodding

   over their striped bibs

  like satisfied farmers

  counting the harvest.

After they left,        

it rained.                 

                                                                          --From Birdwatch

Thunderstorm by Arthur Geisert

I have always geeked out over the weather. As a farmer's daughter, the weather WAS a big deal. We used to call the local radio station to get weather reports. Sometimes we would pay extra and call across the border to Ottawa for more precise reports.

My weather app might just be my most frequently used app on my phone.... I secretly think I may have missed my calling as a meteorologist.

We are about to get a thunderstorm I believe. Or at least a rainstorm. According to the weather anyway. 

This book follows a thunderstorm across the plains. It starts one Saturday afternoon in July. 

At the bottom of each page is the day, date, and time. 

I love the precision of that! 

We get to see farmers getting ready for the storm--unloading one more load of hay before it gets wet. 

And then grabbing the clothes off the line before they are too wet to put away. 

I love all the details! 

What does a farmer do when it storms? Not much. Besides catch the leaks and watch the rain. 

We had dairy cows when I was a teenager, so even when it rained, there was still work to do. But summer days were mostly dedicated to getting hay in. Hay was important. It would be translated into a milk check that fall and winter. Without it, dire disaster, we would have to buy hay. And with the milk prices of the late '90's, that would be ruinous. I remember riding down the road at a breakneck pace one day around lunch time to get the last load of hay under cover before the rain hit. (If hay gets wet, it can start to ferment and decay faster, heating up and potentially burning down a barn. Not a good situation.) We could see the rain, following us up the road from the neighbor's farm. It hit us full force just as we were backing the wagon under the shed. It was a downpour. That afternoon, we didn't do anything. The entire family, all ten of us, came to a standstill. Some of us took afternoon naps, the highest luxury for early morning milkers. Some of us played games, read books. But we were all quiet, watching the rain. Waiting. 

I am sure that happened more than once when I was a kid, but for some reason, that day is the only one that I remember.

Storms were a big deal.  

Tossed flowers

Stormy skies, the storm moving on to another farm.

Developing into a tornado

The sky dark and looming

Chaos

The aftermath.

And already, neighbors were busy putting things to right on other's farms and houses. 

The Poet's Dog by Patricia MacLachlan

(Kenard Pak did the enchanting cover art.)

This is a short little book full of warmth and love and an Irish Wolfhound named Teddy. It was a super quick read, which is pretty much Patricia MacLachlan's chapter book trademark. Two kids, Nickel and Flora are stranded in a snowstorm. They appear to be abandoned by their parents. My sister and I both thought they had terrible parents. (Spoiler alert, their parents aren't rotters after all.) When the stumble through the snowstorm into the woods, Teddy finds them. 

Teddy is not just any old Irish Wolfhound. Teddy is the Poet's Dog. And dogs can talk to poets and children. I was a bit unsure of this, since I have that realistic fiction preference thing going on, but it doesn't seem fantastical at all. Sometimes, it seems like kids and dogs can talk. 

Teddy leads Nickel and Flora to the poet's empty cabin in the woods where they all weather the storm together. Through the storm, they get to know each other and the children learn of Teddy's uncertain future. 

Teddy's words are in italics. Human words are regular. 

This book was a cozy, heart warming book. It isn't mind blowing or perspective altering, but it gives you the same feeling warm slippers, your favorite sweatshirt, and no where to be for the evening gives you. 

Or gives me anyway. 

Float by Daniel Miyares

This is a wordless book about a boy sailing a newspaper boat  his father made for him on a rainy day. 

The endpapers tell you how to make the boat. Not sure if I could make a boat with these pictorial instructions, but someone with a slight engineer bent to their mind probably could. 

Sweet father-son togetherness.

The pictures are fairly monochromatic with pops of yellow, and I love them. 

Protecting his boat from the rain.

Finally it stops!

Awhile later is starts back up. Isn't that a downpour of a picture? Quite effective.

Puddle reflections.

Exuberance!

But then his boat takes off. 

Down the sewer drain! 

By the time it comes out the drain pipe, it is ruined. 

Oh the sadness of his ruined boat!

But Daddies make the world all right again!

Hot cocoa and some more newspaper. 

But this time, since the sun is out, they try a paper airplane. 

This is such a great book--following a little boy exploring his world, supported by his father, and print journalism. 

Newspapers are important! 

Thunder Cake by Patricia Polacco

Patricia Polacco. How amazing is she? Her books are so heartwarming and deep. And her illustrations! It took me awhile to warm up to them and the colors and style she used, but now I can't imagine not loving them. 

Those goat ears...!

Storm approaching!

This is the story of a grandmother normalizing the thunder for her terrified little granddaughter.

Patricia Polacco has a small paragraph on the title page saying she used to visit her Babushka in Michigan and the storms in the Michigan sky seemed more-so than anywhere else. This book is how her grandmother helped her overcome her fear of thunderstorms.

"Child, you come out from under that bed. It's only thunder you're hearing," my grandma said.

Grandmas are good at hugging.

Grandma pulls out the recipe for Thunder Cake. 

As the storm rumbles closer and the little girl counts the seconds between the lightning and the thunder, to see how far away the storm is, the grandmother keeps her hopping, collecting everything they need for Thunder Cake. 

The little girl isn't feeling brave, but her grandmother ignores her bursts of fear and talks soothingly of the next thing they will need to get.

Once everything has been collected from around the farm, they settle into the kitchen to bake and churn the butter for the frosting. 

They pop the cake in the oven and spread the cloth on the table. I love that they make things pretty before the cake.

Her grandmother compliments her on her bravery.

"I'm not brave, Grandma," I said. "I was under the bed! Remember?"

"But you got out from under it," she answered. "and 

you got  eggs from mean old Nellie Peck Hen, 

you got mild from old Kick Cow,

you went through Tangleweed Woods to the dry shed,

you climbed the trellis in the barnyard.

From where I sit, only a very brave person could have done all them things."

I love how her grandmother builds her up. How she gave her the opportunity to do brave things with her grandmother safely beside her. 

Such a great book about a grandmother's love, overcoming our fears, and discovering our bravery in doing everyday things. 

The Storm Book by Charlotte Zolotow & Illus by Margaret Bloy Graham

This is such a lyrical book. Charlotte Zolotow can almost always be depended upon to write beautiful words. And since she often partners with incredible illustrators, her books are magical. This book was a 1953 Caldecott Honor book for Margaret Bloy Graham.  

Wind blown flowers

This is the story of a storm. We don't learn anyone's name or their back story. We just read about how the storm affects them and how they feel about the storm.

This book has an interesting format as well, alternating between a two page spread of illustrations and two pages of writing. It makes the words and the pictures carry more weight somehow. When you are listening to the words, you can focus entirely on the writing. When you turn the page, you can stare at the picture without thinking about what is being said. 

A little cool wind suddenly races through the trees, sways the rambler roses, bends the daisies and buttercups and Queen Anne's lace and the long grass until they make a great silver sighing stretch down the hill. 

Isn't that gorgeous? A great silver sighing stretch... 

Running home to mother as the storm gets close. 

His mother tells him that lightening is similar to their lamplight.

The little boy thinks of the lamp in his room, with its warm golden glow. And he thinks of the lightening flashing through the sky. The lightning was like a wild white wolf running free in the woods and the lamp like the gentle white terrier who came when the boy called. 

We see the storm in a nearby storm darkened city.

At the shore.

And in the shepherd's house, where his wife holds their sleeping baby while the shepherd gathers his sheep. 

Oh happy sigh. 

And then we go back to the little boy's house to see the rainbow. 

Such a great, great book!