Who Hooos? Hoot and Peep by Lita Judge

PEEP WAS FINALLY BIG ENOUGH TO JOIN HER BIG BROTHER, HOOT ON THE ROOFTOPS.

Hoot leads his little sister to a perch on a chimney top to show off his mastery of the owl's night song.

"IT GOES LIKE THIS!

H00000!"

PEEP THOUGHT IT WAS THE PERFECT NIGHT TO SING ABOUT THE MAGIC OF THE MOON.

"SCHWEEP!"

Nooooo! Hoot is horrified at his sister's improvisation. That is not how a proper owl hoots, he insists. Owls always say, HOOOO!! They only HOOOO! That's all they do! Hoot insists that he is the oldest and Peep must do a HOO as he does.

But Peep is having none of her big brother's orthodoxy. She flaps away to a perch on an appropriately grumpy gargoyle on the Gothic facade of a cathedral and begins her warmup up exercises.

"SCHWEEPTY PEEP!"

Hoot flies to the top of the belfry and HOOS even louder.

But Peep is determined to sing her own song.

"SCHWEEPITY PEEP000 DING DONG BONG!"

Hoot unhappily watches as his sister acquires an audience of listening church mice. If only she would listen to his owly wisdom. But Peep soars even farther away, leaving Hoot fretting on his fresco. But as he hears the distant sound of his sister's song, he realizes that it has a moonlit midnight magic of its own.

And after all, it's no fun hooting all alone.

IT WAS THE PERFECT NIGHT.

Lita Judge's just published Hoot and Peep (Dial Books, 2016) tells a sweet story of sibling rivalry resolved, but her exquisite illustrations of her funny, fussing owlets is set against a glorious night scene of slate roofs, chimney pots, and cathedral spires, done in misty muted blues, lit by moonlight that has an ancient magic of its own. Lita Judge is untouched in her comic drawings of birds (cf. her recent Good Morning to Me! reviewed here, and her humorous hooters are a comic counterpoint to her lyrically lovely midnight backdrop. This one is a satisfying read for bedtime or any time.

Well-Versed Owlet: Otto the Owl Who Loved Poetry by Vern Kouskey

As far as the other owls in the woods go, Otto is out of it.

YOU SEE, OWLS ARE SUPPOSED TO ROOST IN THE HOLLOWS OF TREES.

BUT OTTO WOULD RATHER READ BOOKS.

AND OWLS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE HUNTING IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT.

BUT OTTO FINDS A SECRET SPOT TO RECITE HIS FAVORITE POEMS.

Lonely little Otto spouts lines from "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," by T. S. Elliot and "Who Has Seen the Wind?" by Christina Rossetti. The little mice are enchanted, but the other owls hoot at his recitations.

"HERE COMES BLOTTO THE BARD" THEY SCOFF.

But then Otto comes up with a poem that appeals especially to his own cohorts.

"I'M NOBODY. WHOOOOO ARE YOU?"

Now Otto is singing their song, and the other owls give him their rapt attention. They roost in reverie as Otto recites, and all the forest listens to his poetry together.

Vern Kousky's just-published Otto the Owl Who Loved Poetry (Nancy Paulson Books, 2015) comes along just in time for April Poetry Month, with his tale of an odd bird who finally finds popularity among his peers with a bit of Emily Dickinson and a lot of passion for his poems. Kousky's nocturnal illustrations in subdued shades and hues of blues and purples are lovely, while his characters, from the out-of-the-loop Otto to his fans the mice, add a touch of humor to this taste of the great poets.

Night Shift: Little Owl's Night by Divya Srinivasan

LITTLE OWL WAS HAVING A WONDERFUL NIGHT.

The sun and Bear have already called it a day and the birds have gone to roost. But Little Owl is wide awake and ready to join the night shift in the forest.

No one is afraid of the dark here, as his nocturnal neighbors turn out to begin the swing shift. A mama 'possum waddles by with her babes in a row behind her.   Skunk is already breakfasting on some ripe berries. Hedgehog rumbles by, sniffing for 'shrooms. Beaver is up and at it, already busy at the building trade, the frog and cricket choir is warming up for a little night music, and Raccoon is ready to ramble.

There is a beautiful moon rising, and Little Owl longs to show it to his sleeping friend, but this Bear snores on! As Little Owl looks up at the starry sky, he wonders if Bear knows what he is missing.

At last Little Owl flies home, still thinking about what Bear never gets to see, but then he realizes that the daytime animals must see things that he is unaware of. Little Owl asks his mother:

"TELL ME HOW THE NIGHT ENDS," HE WHISPERS.

"THE STARS FADE TO GHOSTS," MAMA SAID. 

"SPIDERWEBS TURN TO SILVER THREADS. DEWDROPS SPARKLE ON GRASS LIKE TINY STARS COME DOWN. 

MORNING GLORIES OPEN... "

It is a poetic recital, but before Mama gets to the part about black skies brightening to blue, Little Owl is lost in dreamland, his shift done for this day, in Divya Srinavasan's new board book edition of Little Owl's Night (Viking Press, 2013), a flip-side bedtime story in which kids who may be afraid of the dark can experience what the nocturnal animals know, the music of the night. Set against shiny black pages, artist Srinavasan's stylized green and brown illustrations are eye-openers, seen through the Little Owl's large green eyes, and the author's lyrical storytelling does justice to the beauties of both day and nighttime.

Read this one last, following Jonathan Allen's sleepy-time priming I'm Not Sleepy! (Baby Owl).(See review here)

Stylin'! Little Owl's Orange Scarf by Tatyana Feeney

LITTLE OWL LOVED SURPRISES.

When Little Owl comes home from riding his scooter through the park, his mommy has a surprise--a handknit, lovingly made, nice warm scarf!

HE DIDN'T LOVE THE ORANGE SCARF.

IT WAS ITCHY.

IT WAS TOO LONG.

IT WAS TOO ORANGE.

Mommy loves him in that scarf. She loves the idea of keeping him nice and warm when he playing outside.

Little Owl hates that scarf. It trails behind him and tangles on everything.  It scratches his neck. And besides, it's so... ORANGE!   Little Owl decides that the kindest thing he can do is to LOSE the thing. Accidentally, of course. He tries slipping it into a mailing box being shipped off to Peru, where they surely must need orange scarfs worse than he does. Mommy notices. Then he surreptitiously leaves it behind on his field trip to the zoo.

Is Mommy mad? No. In fact, she seems to have sleuthed out the motive behind the mystery of the missing scarf.

"THIS TIME WE WILL MAKE IT TOGETHER," SHE SAYS.

And this time Little Owl picks out a nice, soft (non-itchy) yarn in a nice, cool shade of aqua, and this time Mommy makes it just the right length to keep him warm, in Tatyana Feeney's brand-new Little Owl's Orange Scarf (Alfred A. Knopf, 2013), a story which parallels the plot of Gene Zion's classic No Roses for Harry! Feeney's charming faux naif illustrations using blackline drawings with astutely placed color are totally unlike Zion's comic style, but sharp kids will pick up the common elements of these two well-knit tales. Pair these yarns of lovingly made but unlovable knit goods with two similar stories that'll have little listeners in stitches!