Time to Think Ahead to Winter- on Winter Solstice Hill

 No complaints, please, about the topic of this review. Ads for Halloween costumes have been showing up in social media reels, back-to-school sales are already fading, and stock-up-for Thanksgiving ads actually showed up this week. Weirdly early, all of the above. 

CHARLESBRIDGE. October, 2026

Yes, the date is correct... AUGUST!
But the book under discussion here is WINTER SOLSTICE HILL, written by Cathy Stefanec Ogren and illustrated by Rebecca Evans. Why now, you ask, when we have yet to reach Fall's equinox? I'll answer that important question at the end of the post.

First, check out this lovely cover. You can see, as I did, that the story has been portrayed visually by a very perceptive and talented illustrator. Rendered in natural tones with soft edges, the scenes throughout have a light-infused effect. Indoor spreads of  the worn-wood floors, hearth fire, and simple furnishings are softly glazed with a glow that offers a "comfort-food" impact. That's true despite the frosted windows and concerned expression on the face of Ella.

The text is fluent and perfectly matched to the welcoming and straightforward life portrayed. Art details include moving boxes to unpack, a baby sibling, and a joyful golden dog, none of which are mentioned in text. Such details flood the spread with multiple examples of both security and change. Readers quickly connect with Ella (tagged by Grandpa as Ella-Bella) on her quest. They will trudge to the top of the hill, Winter Solstice Hill, where Ella's great-grandparent settlers first stood on Winter Solstice to share a wish for the first time. Finally, Ella is old enough to take part in the tradition. 

Readers join the uphill traipse with Ella, Grandpa, dog, and toboggan to search for the perfect tree, then hope to view the first Solstice star at the summit. Ella is on a mission to make an important but unstated wish. 

The spreads immerse readers in the depth of family history and generational connection, supporting text clues that these generations will be sharing that family home on heritage land. Just as we join in the satisfaction of finding a perfect tree, the weather (and tone) shift, adding the tension of impending storms that will block a view of any stars. In fact, arrival at the summit will not be achieved on that solstice night. The resolve from that point forward allows readers to experience Ella's wide emotional range, and to share in the gratifying ending. Will the wish need to wait, or is another approach possible? 

Overall, this generational story allows the specificity of the characters to feel universal, offering the softening effects of a dusting of light snow. The mix of eagerness, anxiety, joy, enthusiasm, disappointment, and excitement invite discussion, as well as recognition that few feelings are singular. The illustrations contribute so much to an already appealing text, magnifying the well-told story and delightful characters.

Now, back to my opening promise to indicate why a book about Winter Solstice matters in August? This goes to the business side of publishing, in which books are in their final phases (preparing to print, ship, distribute, and sell) for several months before the actual release date. It has become a business model to offer presale of those books, which can even drive the number actually printed and sold. It's a measure of interest and appeal, allowing publishers to guard against overproduction. I'll fully admit that I buy fewer books these days, preferring to read library copies when possible. In this case I was provided a digital copy to preview because I wanted to read it and encourage followers here to consider preorders. This is a seasonal celebration of the ways we carry on traditions, share family stories, imagine ourselves in relation to others, and more. With the multi-cultural holidays that center around late December and relate their stories and celebrations to the Earth's shift from dark to light, this book serves as an axis for all those other books. The storytelling, tone, and resolution can be the foundation for endless family and broader holiday stories at that time of year. To assure that you can purchase enough copies for the many people you'll want to gift with this book and to encourage publishers to produce enough to meet demand, please give this one a close look and consider using the preorder option to support it. 

 

WHEN AUGGIE LEARNED TO PLAY CHESS: You Can, Too!

 The holiday gift-giving season is well upon us! My book-of-choice today is one that makes a delightful gift across many ages (read the author note in back). Beyond that, though, the story it reveals suggests a gift of even greater value: spending time and learning with someone you love. Especially someone young.

Ann Schwartz Books, 2025

WHEN AUGGIE LEARNED TO PLAY CHESS is written by Meredith Rusu and illustrated by Stephen Costanza. This story offers many openings for kids to connect... 

1. Moving...

...Far away (from beachside to a neighborhood with cows and strong smells!)...

Navigating change...

Feeling alone...    in a crowded new school...

Rejection... it's hard enough to say hello to strangers, but then to be ignored? Yikes!

Big feelings... while parents are busy. EncouragIng, but busy.

Auggie notices something on a shelf in his new home-- a lovely checkered board and a pouch filled with intriguing carved characters. When Auggie's Tatâ (Daddy) notices and begins sharing both stories and skills, the gift of time and teaching allows Auggie to turn his mind away from distress and explore challenges and curiosity. The process offers connection for Tatâ and Auggie and a place of respite from change, anchoring them to a family heritage and to each other. 

Mid-story unfolds with some basic labeling and roles of the chess pieces, never slowing the pace but serving well in repeated readings for anyone trying to learn without a skilled Tatâ at their side. Auggie's growing knowledge leads to better days in his classroom, too, and the conclusion offers a suggestion of a satisfying beginning.The author's note and shares a personal story involving family chess heritage, assuring readers that anyone can learn chess, even the very young.

And even the very OLD! I learned chess as a kid, but never worked at developing competitive skill or learning gambits. MANY years later when my school was organizing "clubs" for kids at recess or activity times, mine was the only hand that went up when someone asked, "Who knows how to play chess?" That small act led me to host the "chess room" one day each week, wrangling 7-9 year olds and a few dozen game sets for both novices and talented players. I never claimed to have any knowledge beyond the basics, but over time those stronger players (and valued volunteer parent coaches) allowed me to learn more. After many years this surprising gift was presented to me> > > >

That's been several decades ago, and yet I can still get newcomers launched, settle confusions or disputes, and spot a mis-staged board from across a classroom. My point is, learning to play chess is a lifetime gift that can reach others at any level. There is no better time than the holidays, when family and friends gather, to have a chess board on hand. Someone in those spaces would raise a hand to admit knowing how to play, and someone else will be eager to figure out those curious characters that travel around the board following detailed rules. (Do me a favor. Avoid digital play, at least at first. Use an actual board and figures if at all possible. Learning to set up the positions, including stories about their relative power and playability, is a significant experience in itself.)

Auggie's story is one of family strength and connection, but it also celebrates the ways in which playing chess opens his mind to potential relationships and actions among strangers and friends. It reinforced his sense of agency, even when he felt himself to "only" be a pawn. The complexity of Auggie's journey will entertain and satisfy readers, but my guess is that the closing of the cover will be followed by "I want to play chess!" Consider a gift pack of a chess set with a copy of this book!

A BOOK OF MAPS FOR YOU... Find Your Way To This one!

 Maps intrigue me. Paper maps. Especially the ones bound in an old-school elementary geography book with keys and compasses and colors. Now I rely mostly on digital map/GPS apps to make my way by car and on foot in unfamiliar places. Even so, when I can plan ahead I'll find and print a map of a new area to set a template in my mind about where I'll be and what will surround me.

NEAL PORTER BOOKS,
2025

A BOOK OF MAPS FOR YOU appears to be exactly what its title says. Written by Lourdes Heuer and illustrated by Maxwell Eaton III, the cover makes clear that these maps are child-produced, hand-made depictions of the most important elements of a neighborhood. 

Take more than a few minutes of your time to examine that title page. It launches the story behind these maps and the young person who is creating them. A skylight reveals two little ducks who will appear throughout, a rolled rug and dozing cat, with a view over the shoulder of this creator out to the world that is being mapped.

One page turn presents an interesting conceptual view form above, the completed project laid out on the work table with a line of text above it: "I made a book of maps." 

Each turn then presents a similar birds-eye view used by maps with only a few text inserts.The selection of maps shifts throughout the neighborhood, with various featured aspects becoming simple details or taking center stage. Some are maps of interiors of buildings, occasional shifts to face-on perspectives of things like the library and librarian, even an imaginary pirate island. The reader follows a journey through a delightful neighborhood, then through places depicted become progressively more warm and meaningful, until we arrive inside the home. Finally we see a plan for a fully-fitted bedroom where we began (when it was bare). The closing spreads reveal the ultimate purpose of these maps, and their true value. 

In a time when empathy feels fragile, if not entirely missing, here is a character who models a way to put yourself in someone else's shoes.Then they find ways to make the journey of others safer, more welcoming. The story itself is rich and worthy, with very adept writing and word-choices. The illustrations do exactly what the best will do-- they take the conceptual content and contribute to bringing it to life, to expanding its potential, to making readers full partners in the journey. There are many worthy books about moving that focus on the emotional journey of the child who is moving away, or the child who is moving to someplace new. This remarkable book transcends both with pragmatism and purpose.

I hope that this book finds its way into many conversations among kids and adults about what maps really are, what purposes they serve, what memories they might trigger, and what perspectives they lend to the stories of our lives. And how we can map our way to others and their needs. 

BEING HOME: Finding Rhythms of Our Hearts

Traci Sorell and Michaela Goade have created a rich journey-to-the-heart tale with lyrical text and illustrations that are both joyous and intense. 

With resonant but minimal text, the rhythm of lives in an urban setting cannot feel like home. The people, noises, even the air itself feel invasive, constricting. Nature connections are absent. A move is planned. With heartfelt good-byes to beloved elements (tree, swing) the family drives away to restore the natural rhythms to their lives and home. 

Characters are ones in which readers from many cultures might see themselves. Specifically, though, this provides a vibrant look at a contemporary Native family and community. When so many young people today (and most of us old folk) conjure an image of leather and feathers when "Indian" or "Native" is mentioned, this is a superb book to showcase the reality of modern Native lives and relationships. Honoring traditional ways  and connections is valued in most cultures, and is shown to be at the heart of this familiy's life. 

The young narrator is also clearly an artist at heart and seeks inspiration in daily life as well as centuries-old patterns.

As I am unpacking from my second move in a little over a year, I find that  picture books on the topic of  MOVING are of special interest. This one is unique in the sense that it is not the moving that matters, but the destination. Make your library or bookstore your destination and check this one out soon. Then spark some conversations about which elements in life define "home for those in your own life.

and connections 

Today's the Day! MOVING ON!

 I've been working in advance to allow me to continue sharing reviews and reflections about picture books during the past and coming month. That's because of the many hours I've spent so far on MOVING from my long time home back to my home town. I'll be closer to family, reconnect with some long-ago friends, and make new ones, I hope.

Since today is "traveling day", I thought I'd share a version of a poem I wrote many years ago for my parents when they sold the house I/we siblings grew up in. It seems to resonate with many who've experienced ambivalence about stepping away from many years of memories and facing a future of new experiences. I hope you enjoy it. Comments on your own experiences, past and current, are always welcome, including suggestions for picture book recommendations on this topic for any/many ages.

Houses, Homes, and Changing Lives

I discontinued adding "Covid updates" or anchors to the content of my posts several months ago, mistakenly believing that readily available vaccines would lead the way out of this pandemic. Instead, we are facing rising positive Covid test numbers and hospitalizations for Covid Delta variants in unvaccinated folks that are again overwhelming our physical and human resources. The clock is ticking on the various economic support programs, including an end to the eviction moratorium looming in coming weeks. With so many uncertainties (and scary) circumstances surrounding kids, the prospect of moving is one more variable beyond their control. Or is it?

The current housing market indicates many kids/families will find themselves moving from the home they know to something else. In some cases that might be a "movin' on up" experience, but for many others it could be due to an eviction or job change/loss, or even involve time spent within temporary housing for unhomed folks, or foster settings. (If you missed it, please read my recent review of A KID IS A KID IS A KID, HERE.) Another review from last season strongly recommends THE BLUE HOUSE, by Phoebe Wahl. 

Candlewick, 2021

I mention these perspectives before sharing two picture books about families and homes that won my heart on first reading and then amped up that reaction on repeated readings. The first of these is THE HOUSE OF GRASS AND SKY, written by Mary Lyn Ray and illustrated buy E. B. Goodale. Narration adopts the perspective of "the house", while maintaining a knowing third person voice to explore the lived experiences of this house on a hill in the country. From its earliest fresh lumber smells to observing growing families,  the house learns words like "good-bye" and then "hello", until it sits empty for a surprisingly long time. The grass and sky and tire swing and blooms reliably remained. Seasons passed, but potential new family residents (with diverse identities and preferences) would come, discuss, then leave.

Rabbits waited to be chased, dandelions prepared to be wished on, and starry nights comforted the house through its bare windows. Until... one of those families returns. Restoring the home with caring attention and coats of paint indicate that, once again, the house, the hill, the sky will be the stage on which lives are lived and memories are made. I love that each prospective new owner-family is not the assumed "white" families often depicted in rural and renovation scenarios.

This perspective is both tender and persuasive, never suggesting that the house has its own "life", but rather that every house has a purpose in OUR lives. That purpose is to become a home.

BLUE DOT PRESS, 2021

Next up, author Margaret Wild and illustrator Ann James adopt an entirely different approach and perspective to the home-leaving, home-finding, home-making process. GOODBYE, OLD HOUSE shifts to the perspective of a canny and caring little character who is already owning their transition. The leaving process is revealed by lifting them off the impressionist-styled scenes to the forefront with a black-line-on-white, loosely drawn identity. This intentional child collects significant experiences for one last time: fishing, woodland runs, pony petting, and good-byes to each room and home-location. 

In each case, they convey a sense of peace about the departure; not joyful, but also not melancholy. 

Then, with the same deliberate, in-the-moment awareness of good-byes, they experience many "This is the first time..." "Hello" scenes in a new house-to-become-home. 

This is a story of a child who is able to make an empowered transition from a prior home to a new one, regardless of the reason for the move. It suggests that the geographic locations, physical properties, or particular details of the buildings themselves, HOUSES becoming HOMES depends on the embrace of their residents. The ability to do that, for children especially, is in direct proportion to preparation and attitude conveyed by their adult caregivers/family. 

This is a book that should be shared with/recommended to any adults who anticipate moving, for any reason. It is also a wonderful book for story time and story-sharing in libraries and classrooms. The child who inhabits this story is ambiguously gendered and aged, conveys familiar emotions that invite connection, and models an open and adventurous attitude while holding close the memories and experiences of their past. The art style itself allows young audiences to imagine themselves being overlaid on this experience of moving, viewing themselves as the constant and stabilizing factor in life changes. 

While there are no direct references to back-to-school, these two titles make a great lead-in to conversations about being "new", about saying "good-bye", and about seeking ways to connect those two things in meaningful activities and memories. 

Memories and Transitions: THE BLUE HOUSE

 Covid19 Anchor in Time:

The world is nearly a year into the unspecified date on which "patient one" unknowingly contracted the earliest case of Covid 19. Soon after, the spread began, the questions eventually arose, and specialists in contagious diseases began the long and puzzling journey that brings us to our "current" global count of nearly forty million positive diagnoses and more than a million deaths due to Covid. The ever-changing reports can be checked HERE. 

I mention this because, despite these tragic numbers, and even some gradually developing treatment and vaccine news, people continue to be evicted, to seek new dwellings, to put homes up for sale and buy new ones, to pack belongings and move possessions into the spaces previously occupied by others, by people who considered it their home. Especially in these uncertain times, how long does it take to make that new dwelling feel like YOUR home? And what, precisely, helps you turn the page to that new reality?

Homes are so much more than the structures in which we live. The final stanza of a poem I wrote when my parents moved from their longtime home makes this point:

"A house is just an empty stage

where families live and love and age.

The script is stored, each detailed page,

in the memories of the cast."  

(Sandy Brehl)

Alfred A. Knopf

THE BLUE HOUSE, written and illustrated by Phoebe Wahl, explores this question with incredibly tender insight and details. The front and back covers effectively lift this very specific blue house and this very special father-son pair (Leo and his dad) into a liminal white space that could represent any place, any time. The art there and throughout the book utilizes Wahl's characteristic and intentionally primitive style, infused with earthy colors and a very relatable charm. 

The polar opposite of this universality is revealed at the opening endpapers, which absorbed my attention for an extended time. The "blue house" is recognizable from the cover, but it lives on a very specific street corner of a very specific neighborhood, one in which every square foot is dense with quirky characteristics and personality, in which each seems to have countless stories to tell. There is a warmth and welcoming spirit to this opening, one that continues with every turn of the page.

The story is simple, and infused with emotions ranging from joy to pain to peace, and everything in between. With  hand-lettered, limited text and page after page of intriguingly detailed images, readers learn that the blue house is both dilapidated and a personal palace. Indoors and out, it is the stage on which Leo and his dad celebrate their love and the luxury of lives well-lived, deeply experienced in each moment. When harsh reality forces them to move, they experience "all the feels" together, emptying that old blue house of their lives. No spoiler here, except to praise expert storytelling that offers a departure scene that effectively foreshadows the eventual resolution scene. 

Ultimately, we all move on. That is true of physical circumstances, in our emotional lives, and in our relationships. Transitions take time. This simple story is a warmhearted reminder that we will survive change. We can and will, in fact, grow from transitions. What matters most is how we face change. The final endpapers offer a look at that opening neighborhood with some changes underway. There is enough continuity of familiar and comforting anchors to promise that change, over time, can lead us forward in life to something better, while retaining the best of what has gone before. 

As with the best picture books, this one entertains and appeals on its face. The underlying and powerful themes offer meat for discussion, but that isn't necessary. Even the youngest children will be adding it to their "read it again" stack, absorbing the themes with each repetition. The boy in the story is clearly an oder child but what entices and appeals is the core of the  story- the lively and loving and accepting daily life of this family.

This is one of the growing number of CYBILS AWARDS nominees in the fiction picture book category. Links to reviews of  more of the 100+ titles (so far), by me and the other panelists, can be found HERE. This is NOT going to be an easy decision, folks!