Let's Hear It For the Birds... and Dinosaurs!

When was the last time you saw a dinosaur? Particularly a T-Rex? If you think  it was at a museum (fossils or reconstructions) or in animation or a book, you are probably not correct. That's my sideways introduction to the topic of the day. You probably HAVE seen a dinosaur in the last few days... if you've seen a bird! And that's surprising close to seeing T. Rex!

Several books about dinosaur-ancestor-links to modern birds have been hitting the shelves. Books for adults and young readers. I've been devouring many of those as research for a current nonfiction writing project. Books intended for adult and for youth audiences are equally revealing and remarkable. I generally use books from the library for such reading, since I lack both the funds and the floor space for the countless books I choose to read. But among the many gems on this topic, one was so impressive that I now own my own copy. 

WELBECK Children's Books. 2026
Hatchette Children's London

CHICKENS and OTHER DINOSAURS: How Dinosaurs Became the Birds We Know Today, is written by Ben Lerwill and illustrated by Sarah Edmonds. I wasn't aware of either of these creators and enjoyed exploring their websites. Lerwill is a nonfiction researcher and writer who says he writes "clear, readable pieces from in friendly, reliable text", and I agree! Edwards produces art with accuracy but also whimsical humor. Her site is grin-inducing.

Most of us, from preschool to elders, are familiar with the science evidence that linked birds to early evolutionary sources in dinosaurs. Many, if not most, of us, have concluded that the widely known flying dinosaurs, pterodactyls, were the likely great-great-great... originators of birds we see today.

This is where untrained "assumers" have been proven wrong by science investigators. Birds of today, from chickens to hummingbirds to ostriches, appear to be living remnants of the THERAPOD group of dinosaurs. Among those the most well-known is T. Rex, but they include those ancestors with three forward-facing toes, meat-eaters who ran very fast. Oldest fossil records begin about 230 million years ago, but fossil evidence of their smaller, faster, lighter therapod versions begins about 160 million years ago. So, when the author writes,

"When you are looking at a bird, you are looking at a living dinosaur,"

you must keep that time scale in mind. The generational changes that shaped monstrous T. Rex into the sparrow on your feeder are massive, and yet the changes were not simply a side branch on a family tree. That sparrow and all birds share a significantly similar DNA link directly to their theropod origins. 

This incredibly comprehensive and yet child-friendly book incorporates creative sidebar placements with informative illustrations, paleontology and social science evolution debates, along with a thoroughly accurate and exciting explanation of what makes a bird a bird: FEATHERS!

Not necessarily flight, since we know that not all birds fly. But flight certainly did aid in those evolving theropods who could travel to available food sources and habitats, to stay warm as the earth cooled, and to continue theropod survival into present day.

There's a terrific journey through dinosaur history (specifically theropods) including fossil evidence of varied feather-like formations, shifts to smaller, lighter skeletal frames, even evolving hollow bones and hardened beaks with residual teeth and varying arm and claw structures that became wings of one sort or another. Comparisons of fossil-inspired bird-like dinosaurs (none that are pterodactyls) to present day bird species are described in visual contrast and with bite-sized informational text that will stay with readers and bring them back to share facts with others. That's a good thing, because the contents are both detailed and enticing to explore, compare, and then observe in real life. This is a don't-miss nonfiction book for anyone who has ever seen a bird. That would be you, right?

Roaring Brook Press, 2026

While putting titles on hold, or ordering purchases, consider an informational fiction book to pair with the first. THE DINOSAUR AND THE BIRD: A TALE OF PREHISTORIC FRIENDSHIP is written by Richard Ho and illustrated by Jamie Green. Ho's website will reveal the many other appealing books he's written, and Green's website will lead you through an interactive discovery of her own making. This imagined tale about a dinosaur who is not welcomed by others of its species but finds company with a long-billed bird friend. In a modern-day fable of unlikely friendships (think of the lion and the mouse) these tentative, unlikely friends allow a wish to come true-- a wish for a friend. (And yes, some versions of modern birds lived at the same era as the dinosaurs we commonly recognize as such.) 

If this sounds like the end of the story, it would be fiction without the "informational" descriptor. The vibrant and abstractly-rendered backgrounds for each scene offer informational content as well as Disney-like appeal. Then, on a single page turn, the two friends witness a fireball falling from the sky. It is distant. Not an immediate threat. But in a compressed timeline, these two live through the ecological changes that darkened the earth, shifted a previously friendly climate, and reduced available food. 

The actual consequences over years are presented within a few pages about their lives, revealing the efforts and comforts of feathered, flying devotion. Attempts to support a starving, dying friend are tenderly conveyed. The ending suggests both the science underway and the fable at work, with hope and promise. 

Both books contain a wealth of material to think about and discuss, while taking entirely different approaches to their subject matter. Together, they should be in classrooms, libraries, and homes. especially in the hands of anyone of any age who never outgrows a love of dinosaurs, or birds!

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.