In the WORLD OF WHALES: An Incredible Vicarious Experience

 Sperm whales were hunted to the brink of extinction. Now, more than forty years after regulation, they are still a rare and endangered species. All whales inspire awe and amazement at their size, intelligence, and mystery. Sperm whales are the subject of this remarkable picture book, but its account of this actual, documented experience is really a book about WONDER. Wonder beyond our general knowledge of whales. WONDER. linked to a specific and brief experience that changed a lifetime.

NEAL PORTER BOOKS, 2025

IN THE WORLD OF WHALES is written by Michelle Cusolito and illustrated by Jessica Lanan. I've read and appreciated many other astonishing and revealing picture books about whales (HERE, HERE, among others). Each account, each revelation leaves me with that sense of wonder, as well as increased awareness of enormous gaps in my personal knowledge of whales. I am grateful for nonfiction picture books like these that convey so much in such a compact, compelling, and memorable form. 

In this case the author's note reveals that her choice of voice was intentional. TWO free-dive partners submerge  together, practicing the safe steps and training that allowed them to experience and share so much of life beneath the surface. The narrative makes the partnership clear, as do the illustrations. Despite that, as these immersive (no joke intended)  and stunning events unfold, the narrative voice accomplishes an impressive revelation of a single diver as he witnesses and actually interacts following the rare event of a sperm whale birth. The experiences were fully recorded, but even after watching several of their remarkable videos I found this picture book was able to include me in the experience in a more powerful way.

Even a summary of this book is impressive. Free divers and their crew notice a clan of sperm whales that suddenly submerge. The divers with cameras enter the deep, seeing a circle of sperm whales surrounding a mother whale as she has recently given birth. Dependent on repeated surfacing and dive cycles, the divers manage to convey their interest without intrusion, mimicking the fluid movement patterns of whales. In successive pages readers share those observations and patterns, the whales' tolerance and then acceptance of human presence at this most vulnerable of moments. After the final resurface, the divers leave, forever changed.  A double spread scientific drawing of a sprem whale with annotated labels is informative and intriguing, followed by two more pages about free diving and whales, books and resources. One final turn provides a breathtaking photographic image as well as notes by both the author and the illustrator. 

Both narrative and illustrations provide readers with a sense of participation. The narrative pattern makes the vulnerability of free diving real by dividing this overall event into segments of holding one's breath. The diver lifts his backside and plunges deeply, observes, then returns to the surface to breathe out-breathe in-return to the deep. In each case I sensed the compulsion to stay under longer, the lungs demanding air, the frustration of turning away from a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The illustrations are so watery, wistful, and wondrous that I held my breath between those resurfacing pages. Perspective and relative size played a part in the drama, but so did the text that manages to convey a multi-sensory engagement, including the clicks and vibrations, the varied pitch and the manner of approach of the whales to these tiny creatures, these human observers. The text is careful not to assign emotions or meanings to the actions of the whales, but does suggest potentials. 

When anyone is asked about moments in life that change them forever, a birth in the family often makes the list, usually leads it. That's true for mothers, fathers, grandparents, and more. The birth of any new life is a jaw-dropping experience, from litters of puppies to calves and even to the emergence of a monarch butterfly from its chrysalis. In this case, though, the undeniable intelligence, community, and communication among and from this clan of whales is all the more impressive since it has never before been directly witnessed by humans. 

Don't miss out on your chance to experience it yourself.  

If you are on Facebook or Instagram, you may want to subscribe to FRED BUYLE's feeds to view more videos of this and other wonders of undersea life. Unless we fill our knowledge gaps, and increase our wonder-capacity, regulation alone will not insure their preservation.

LOST PACKAGE: Let's Not Lose the Postal Service

Before I launch into my full-throated praise of our United States Postal Service (USPS), let me assure you that I have no relatives who work for that organization. My admiration and reliance on this public service as been lifelong and loyal, with my enthusiastic support rising year after year. That magnified as I learned about the postal services in other countries, as I've lived my entire adult life far from people I love.  Our USPS has allowed me to send and receive letters and packages to those people safely, reliably, and reasonably priced for as many years as I have been alive. Digital access is valuable, but nothing replaces actual mail.

Have I ever felt the stress of a lost package? Yes. Once, in particular, a handmade quilt-wedding gift seemed to be "lost in the mail" for a worrying length of time. This was before tracking, but it turned up in time, safe and sound. That was a great example of the fact that no amount of package insurance (which I had purchased) could have compensated for its loss. The same would ahve been true in the following...

Roaring Book Press, 2021

Which leads me to the heart of a picture book written by Richard Ho and illustrated by Jessica Lanan,  THE LOST PACKAGE. As I heard about this book and then read it, I appreciated the story, the characters, and the rarely-explored treatment of my beloved USPS. 

I'll admit that I also felt a twinge of caution. The idea that a package could be lost, abandoned, potentially never reach its destination felt a bit like kicking USPS while its down, while it is struggling under hostile leadership and financial woes not of its own making. (Learn more HERE.)

Then I read the author's (and illustrator's) notes. Ho's father was a dedicated USPS employee for over thirty years, providing his immigrant family a way into the American middle class while delivering security and love for them while providing  a service we could all "take for granted". 

I'll return to that thought after sharing the beauty and joy of this picture book.

What I loved about this, even before reading the mitigating notes at the back, is that a single package carries its own story. It may not seem the way, as online ordering has become so ubiquitous and automatic that doorstep delivery can feel impersonal, automatic. 

I advocate that every single day, and most especially in Covid times, we should reflect a bit more often on the remarkable process that takes place outside of our awareness. This story allows the package itself to feel like a character, beginning as an empty box, filled lovingly with a meaningful object and message. It  then moves through an elaborate and efficient system to reach its intended doorstep. The actual processing of mailed letters and packages is portrayed with details (and my admiration) through illustrations, and received a stamp of approval for accuracy from Ho's father. 

But, bad things sometimes happen to mail. Statistically speaking, that is a vanishingly small percentage of processed mail, but it does happen. In this case, a pothole causes the tragic ejection of a package from its mail truck, and it happens to be the very package that readers are "tracking".  It comes to rest in a gutter, ignored by many, until a young boy and his dog insist on taking a closer look. That's when my hopes were raised that they would return it to their local post office and the heroes would be employees who deciphered the ruined address, finally, heroically, delivering our battered little package. 

That would have  fit my glowing view of USPS, and is actually what happens, often. I suspect we've all occasionally received a damaged letter or package. We may be aggravated at the condition without ever considering the remarkable system that overcame that damage to get it into our hands.

I was admittedly surprised when the story took a different turn. A boy, his mom, and his dog retrieved that package from the New York City gutter, noticed the address, and added it in their loaded van as they made their way to San Francisco. The precise locations are indicated in effective illustration elements, never mentioned in text, and are an excellent example of the rare instances in which an author DOES need to provide simple art notes.

The underlying focus on our amazing USPS services (Neither snow nor rain...) applies to this family's journey. Throughout, the text is spare but exactly suits such an emotionally deep and physically sprawling story, including the powerful line that extends far beyond the page: 

"Not all packages travel the same road, Some get lost. Some get found."

This story involves absence, loss, moving away, hopes, departures, and arrivals, as well as the power of outreach. In this case, it reunites old friends and sparks new friendships. It underscores my belief that physical objects (and letters) are links of love, offering material evidence of connections and caring. (I urge you to read more of the backstory on how this all developed, explored in a wonderful interview with Richard Ho on a blog you should follow, Picture Book Builders, HERE.)

Now, as promised, I'll return to my personal relationship with USPS. If you only came for the picture book recommendation, feel free to leave now. First, I'm delighted to report that the school I call home, even after retirement, continues to utilize the USPS WEE DELIVER program in which third grade classes rotate monthly duties related to managing a full-school postal system. For more details about this, in case you'd like to recommend it for a school near you, are HERE.

As I said, I have no immediate connection with postal employees, and yet... I do. Just as Mr. Rogers helped generations of young viewers learn through his postal delivery friends, I have "known" my neighborhood mail workers my entire life. I've always understood they were among Mr. Rogers's famously trusted "helpers".

That was true when that person walked neighborhood streets to deliver my family's mail, or filled rows and rows of individual boxes in a dorm or apartment complex, and when they reached me on rural routes as mail was delivered by truck.

In every case, those individuals were familiar faces and ones I could count on. Ones I could trust.

Lynn is the mail carrier who handled my route since I moved to my present home, more than two decades ago. Lynn retired yesterday. Throughout those years, for me and for everyone on her route, she has been an encourager, sympathizer, cheerleader, and weird-address-figure-outer. (Where I live the addresses are so strange that i was once asked if it is a prison address. FYI- it is not.) 

She has also been the dog-godmother for every canine in the area. Not because she gave snacks, but because she genuinely loved those fur balls who thought she came each day for a short and overdue visit, just for them, She has celebrated new puppies, followed their life sagas, and mourned with us as they passed. 

I will stay in touch with Lynn, but even the most loyal, reliable replacement will never fully take her place. I will, however, thank them for their friendly service, log on and praise the clerks at the post office every single time I mail packages, and lobby political representatives to finally, fully, secure our amazing USPS. Perhaps you'll give some thought to doing that, too.