Alex Ostensibly, spring is upon us.
Yet here in Upstate New York, we’re having a more . . . fitful go of things. I took this photo a few weeks ago–of what I thought would be the last freaky snowfall of the season. But last weekend here felt more like November than May, and today a chill has blown in yet again.
Spring has apparently decided to join the list of things taxing our patience of late. We can hardly be surprised, given its track record–but right now, adults and children alike are having a hard time waiting on sunnier skies.
It is for this very reason that I want to share two books with you today. They were published more than 50 years apart, but work beautifully in tandem to ease impatience and help readers explore the world with their senses.
The first title, Spring for Sophie, follows a young girl as she waits–and waits, and waits–for spring. Fretting by the fireplace on a late winter day, she asks her mother when spring will come–and more importantly, how she’ll know when it has arrived.
(If you happen to live in a place that’s graced by warmth most of the year, this feeling might be blissfully foreign to you–so feel free to substitute Sophie’s vexation with your own dismay at finding that it’s still 85 degrees Fahrenheit on Halloween.)
In the following pages, Sophie’s mother and father encourage her to use each of her senses to monitor the seasonal transition. From listening for birdsong, to feeling for the ground to soften, and waiting for the air to “begin to smell like earth and rain,” Sophie stays vigilant while enjoying some last wintry activities with her younger sister.
It should be noted here that this careful attention seems not only to ease the burden of waiting for Sophie herself, but also to give her parents–who need only set her on a new assignment when her patience has waned–a huge break. So, for those of you with children who won’t stop harassing you about whether it will be nice enough to go swimming or fly their kite soon–why not send ‘em on outside to use their senses for a while?
Sophie’s gradual walk through the seasons–from snowy ground to dappled green hills–teaches her that spring is not a precise moment in time, but rather the culmination of many sights, sounds, feelings, smells, and even tastes that leave her confident her wait is over (that is, unless she’s hit with another snowstorm in May).
But speaking of walks, our next title, The Listening Walk, offers yet more fodder for some mindful observation–and what better vehicle for that observation than the world’s new favorite pastime?!
First published in 1961, and illustrated by the prolific Aliki, The Listening Walk was one of my childhood favorites. Like Spring for Sophie, it follows a young girl embarking on a sensory adventure–but as the title suggests, this time it’s all about one sense in particular.
As The Listening Walk’s protagonist ties her sneakers and sets out with her father and their dachshund named Major, she tells us that, on this sort of walk, she doesn’t do any talking.
Instead, we learn, she listens closely to the sounds around her–from Major’s toenails “twick twick twicking” on the sidewalk, to cars screeeeeeeching to a halt for a cat in the road.
Past neighbors’ houses, down around the street corner, and at the pond, the three listeners enjoy their quiet-yet-noisy excursion; our protagonist marvels at the variety and novelty of the sounds she encounters–and when she arrives home, she reminds us that you don’t need to go far to have your own listening walk:
“You can walk around your block and listen.
You can walk around your yard and listen.
You do not even have to take a walk to hear sounds.
There are sounds everywhere all the time.
All you have to do is keep still and listen to them.”
Both Spring for Sophie and The Listening Walk boast bright, springy illustrations, and Jen Hill’s digitally-retouched gouache paintings achieve the same gentle beauty that readers will recognize in Aliki’s traditional watercolor and pen work.
These charming titles offer a breath of fresh air to readers–making them perfect for those holed up inside–but also encourage engagement long after they’ve been returned to the shelf. They’re great tools to get kids thinking about their surroundings–and to help keep cabin fever at bay!
