Animals Adapting... Or Not! Nonfiction At Its Best

Take a look at two remarkably powerful (and gorgeous) nonfiction picture book nominees that combine huge visual and content appeal with horrifying truths about the harm we humans are doing to the natural environment. Each title blends specific details about a particular species that is, or is not, succeeding at adapting to our rapidly changing environment. Each uses the intensity of nearly poetic text in books that are oversized and so richly illustrated that the saturated double page spreads capture our natural world and also the imagination of what is possible. 

Bloomsbury, 2019

The first is MOTH: An Evolution Story, written by Isabel Thomas and illustrated by Daniel Egneus. You need to trust me on this (or hustle to a library or bookstore to see for yourselves) that the image posted here DOES NOT do justice to the shimmering book jacket for this book. The interior magic shifts the sparkle and shine to a blend of the spare-but-compelling text and sweeping scenes. They make the adaptability of the delicate little peppered moth is a prime example of the destruction of pollution and also a beacon of hope in the face of dangerous environmental damage. 
First words, with an image of a child reading in an oversized armchair say this: 

"This is a story of light and dark.

Of change and adaptation,

of survival and hope."

The daily survival story of typical peppered moths relies on their mottled appearance which allowed them to hide from their many predators on lichen-speckled tree bark in the forest. The occasional all-black moths that hatched were, naturally, located and gobbled first. That meant having little time to mate and lay more eggs. 

Eggs that would have led to MORE all-black versions in their offspring. 

It takes only a single spread and a few words to reveal dramatic survival scenes of camouflaged speckled moths unfolding over centuries. 

Until...

"People built factories and burned coal to power magnificent machines."

Machines and coal are not condemned. After all, they ARE magnificent. They warmed homes and moved people, they provided jobs and grew cities. 

And yet...

Within a few steadily blackening pages and with few words, pollution blackened the woodland lichen habitat of the peppered moths. At that point, those with speckled wings stood out, no longer protected from predators. The fewer black-winged moths had a much greater chance of surviving. Within the span of 50 years, the black-winged moths far-outnumbered the speckled varieties. 

But, as the text points out, the story didn't end there. 

Cities (meaning the people who run those pollution-spewing machines) gradually made different choices and the environment in that area became greener. Not perfect, but greener. Over another several decades, the population of peppered moths shifted again, since both  varieties could then find resting places on which they would camouflaged. 

Back matter simply but accurately describes central concepts of evolution, natural selection, and adaptation. 

What's more, the first-pages young child appears again on the final page of basic text, with a single word: HOPE.

Greenwillow Books, 2019

The second title that deserves our attention is SEA BEAR: A JOURNEY FOR SURVIVAL, whose words and images were created  by Lindsay Moore.  This depiction of a single sea bear's struggle to survive is even more dramatic than that of the moths, in part because its lifespan is (or should be) far longer than that of the moths above. 

In this case the author/illustrator gives first person voice to Sea Bear, along with a natural but penetrating direct gaze at the reader. This  approach reveals the facts about the impact of pollution on its life as facts, not as complaints. Back matter adds select details about the science of other Arctic sea creatures and the ways in which glacial melting and global warming are changing thousands of years of life and food chains. 

Here, too, spare text appears on oversized pages that are drenched in intense, nearly monochromatic color. The opening here, too, is breathtaking:

Polar bears are patient beasts, 

as patient as glaciers. 

We know how to hope and to wait. 

I learned to be patient long ago

from my polar bear mother--"

From that point Sea Bear reveals the ways in which generations of instincts and an attentive mother created an impressive survivor, one who is well-adapted to the Arctic environment. Sadly, though, natural selection and adaption, as it plays out in the book about moths, does not respect individual lives or single generations. Rapid changes, thinning sea ice, and a warming climate that is rapidly destroying those patient glaciers make those generations of survival skills less useful. The changes make it harder for patient Sea Bear to survive, as an individual or as a species.

For the sake of young readers, Sea Bear concludes on a hopeful, patient note. Older readers will recognize the bleak prospects for the future of sea bears and other Arctic life. 

The end papers merit close observation, too, revealing the wrenching impact that vanishing sea ice is having on this symbolic, individual bear, from which we can conclude the potential reduction in their total population. 

Don't let the first person voice suggest to you that this is a Disney-fied promotional distortion of the natural events unfolding, that it is propaganda and red flags about the urgency of a pending population collapse. Instead, Sea Bear stands as a sentinel of its species and a part of the Earth most of us will never see.

Just as the penetrating stare of Sea Bear rivets readers' attention, so too does this powerful picture book rivet our attention on the disappearing sea ice and it's impact on our one and only planet. It is up to readers to draw conclusions and learn more.

These two titles are must-haves in classrooms, libraries, and home reading as well.