Winter white trees...

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An excerpt:

Have you seen snow trees?
Winter, bright, white trees?
Turned-to-ice-at-night trees,
sparkling-in-the-light trees.
I can hear the SNAP
of the winter white trees!

~ from Have You Seen Trees?,

written by Joanne Oppenheim

I love the images and the rhymes in this excerpt! 

A big snowstorm is predicted to hit much of the midwest this week. But here in the Chicago area the forecast is calling for rain, much to my family's dismay. I'm posting this photo and excerpt in the hopes that those predictions will be wrong and that we'll seeing some winter bright white trees around here soon....

The way of life...

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Have you ever noticed a tree standing 
   naked against the sky, 
How beautiful it is?  
All its branches are outlined, and in its nakedness 
There is a poem, there is a song.  
Every leaf is gone and it is waiting for the spring.  
When the spring comes, it again fills the tree with 
The music of many leaves, 
Which in due season fall and are blown away. 
And this is the way of life.

~  Krishnamurti

I love to see trees lush and green in the summer or ablaze with color in the fall. But I also appreciate the naked trees of winter. There is a poem there, and a stark kind of beauty. Can you hear the song in the bare branches?

Snow What Fun!

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I love snow. I love to watch it fall from the sky. I love to go sledding in it, and ice skating, make snow angels and snowmen. And once I'm done playing out in the snow, there's nothing I like better than wrapping up in a warm blanket,  with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book!

Even though it's been many years since any of my kiddos have sat on my lap to listen to me read a story, I still enjoy reading and looking through picture books. Here are a few that I found at our library recently and wanted to share with you:

No Two Alike,

written and illustrated by Keith Baker, 2011

Two little birds explore the winter wonderland all around them and discover that, though many things are similar to each other, each one is unique. I love the gently rhyming text and Baker's creative scenes on every page, like the bird skiing on pine needles in the picture shown above.

***

No,

written and illustrated by Claudia Rueda, 2009

Winter has come. It is time for mother bear and her little one to go to sleep until spring. But little bear wants to stay up and play in the snow. This is a cute story, perfect for reading at bedtime when your own little cub doesn't want to go to bed!

***

Red Sled,

written and illustrated by Lita Judge, 2011

This delightful story about woodland creatures who find a sled is told through Judge's illustrations and a bit of onomatopoeia.

***

When Winter Comes,

written by Nancy Van Laan

and illustrated by Susan Gaber, 2000

This engaging book uses rhyme and repetition to tell about what happens to animals and plants when winter comes.

***

Diamond in the Snow,

written by Jonathan Emmett

and illustrated by Vanessa Cabban, 2006

Mole has never seen snow before. When he finds something smooth and sparkly sticking out of the snow, he thinks it must be a diamond. However, the diamond keeps changing shape in his hands -- maybe it's magic?  This charming story shows just how magical wintertime can be.

***

Anna's Wish,

written by Bruno Hachler

and illustrated by Friederike Rave, 2008

It hasn't snowed in years. In fact, Anna has never even seen snow -- except for in her dreams. But then she spies a little white horse in the bakery window, standing on a cake that looks like snow. Maybe, if she just wishes hard enough...

***

Winter is for Snow,

written and illustrated by Robert Neubecker, 2013

A little girl is not fond of the cold and the snow, but her brother sets out to convince her that there are many wonderful things about winter. I know some people who are like the little girl in this story, who are always trying to wish winter away and skip ahead to summertime. I'd love to send them all copies of this book! :)

***

You Make Me Smile,

written and illustrated by Layn Marlow, 2013

It is a very special day for a little girl and her snowman! This is a sweet, magical story about friendship.

***

This Place in the Snow,

written and illustrated by Rebecca Bond, 2004

The morning after a big snowfall, the plow comes through and makes a mountain of snow. The children work together to make their own splendid place in the snow. I especially liked Bond's poetic text. Plus, this fun book reminds me of my son Ben and the other boys on our cul-de-sac. The plow always piles the snow up at the edge of our yard -- the kids love to build forts there, with sledding paths and more.

***

Snow,

written and illustrated by Uri Shulevitz, 1998

The whole city is gray. Then, one snowflake falls to the ground. And another. The grownups say it will just melt away, but one young boy with his dog waits for the snow... and soon the city is white.

***

For even more wintry picture books, check out this previous post of mine:

There's No Books Like Snow Books

Have you read any of the books above? If so, what did you think of them? What are your favorite picture books about winter?

Silence

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Silence

Quiet,
so quiet
without a sound

Floating,
falling
to the ground

Snowflake feathers
from snow-white birds

Snow is a poem
without any words.

~ Eve Merriam

I love to watch snow falling, don't you? I love it when I'm inside, warm and cozy, gazing out my window and I love it when I'm outside in the cold, snowflakes landing on my face and melting there. I love how beautiful it is... and how quiet. 

Merriam's poem above makes me smile. I especially like that last line. And now whenever I watch the snow fall, I will think of it as poetry without words. :)

Pine Tree Song

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Pine Tree Song

Little pines upon the hill,
Sleeping in the moonlight still,
Are you dreaming now of me
Who bloomed into a Christmas tree?
Baby moons of gold and red
Cuddle close beside my head;
In my tangled leaves a string
Of fairy stars are glimmering;
While my arms, for girls and boys,
Blossom with a hundred toys.
O little pines, it’s fun to live
To be a Christmas tree — and give.

~ Marjorie Barrows

I like how Barrows writes this rhyming poem from the perspective of a Christmas tree, and the image of fairy stars glimmering.  Which words or lines do you like best?

I Heard a Bird Sing

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I Heard a Bird Sing

I heard a bird sing

  In the dark of December

A magical thing

  And sweet to remember.

“We are nearer to Spring

  Than we were in September,”

I heard a bird sing

  In the dark of December.

~ Oliver Herford

This is a hopeful little poem, especially when it's been cold and snowy for weeks -- which is not the case here this year. Here it already feels like spring, LOL. Do you dream of spring in December?

A pretty little fir tree

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An excerpt:

     Out in the forest there stood a pretty little fir tree. It had a good place, for there was sun, plenty of air, and all around grew many larger trees. But the little tree thought of nothing but growing.

     "Oh, were I but a large tree like the others!" the little thing said. "For then I could stretch out my branches far around, and look out into the world. The birds would build nests in my branches, and when the wind blew I could nod as proudly as the others."

~ from The Little Fir Tree,

written by Hans Christian Andersen

This story of a fir that grows up to become a Christmas tree is a sad one, for the fir never learns to enjoy its life at the moment and is always wishing for greater things. It's easy to look at the past and wish things were like "the old days" or to look towards the future, hoping for something better than what we have now. I believe, however, that it's best to try appreciating the present and all the blessings surrounding us right now. What do you think?

How long will we feed them?

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An excerpt:

     The snowman stood alone... but only for a short time.

     "They have eaten everything... even the carrot nose," whispered the little sister peeking out from behind the evergreens.

     "Let's put out more seeds and corn before they come back," encouraged the brother. "The animals will never know we were here."

     "How long will we feed them?" she asked.

     "For a long, long time," he replied. "After the snow has gone and the snowman has melted away, until the frogs start to sing and the trees grow new leaves."

~ from Stranger in the Woods, 

written by Carl R. Sams II & Jean Stoick

We don't have any snow on the ground at the moment, but I am wishing for a winter wonderland. I love snow and making snowmen... and would love it even more if a snowman of mine attracted the attention of some wildlife like the one in this story! How about you?

Snow-Flakes

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Snow-Flakes

Out of the bosom of the Air,
  Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare
  Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
    Silent, and soft, and slow
    Descends the snow.

Even as our cloudy fancies take
  Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
  In the white countenance confession,
    The troubled sky reveals
    The grief it feels.

This is the poem of the air,
  Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
  Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
    Now whispered and revealed
    To wood and field.

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

For me, snow usually brings happy thoughts to mind, but in this poem snow takes on a sad, melancholy feeling.  I love the imagery in Longfellow's words and also the sounds, especially the last two lines of each stanza. My favorite line, though, is "This is the poem of the air,/Slowly in silent syllables recorded" -- to me, that is simply beautiful. What do you like (or dislike) about this poem?

Winter Moon

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Winter Moon

How thin and sharp is the moon tonight!
How thin and sharp and ghostly white
Is the slim curved crook of the moon tonight!

~ Langston Hughes

I don't know about you, but I can't believe that it's December already! Where did the year go?? 

I know that winter doesn't officially start for a few more weeks, but I always consider the 1st of December to be the beginning of the winter season. (Especially when we've already had snow, like this year!) I love to step outside at night during the winter, enjoying the soft white ground all around, glowing in the moonlight. Do you? I also like the different ways that Hughes describes the moon in this short poem.

November Morning

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November Morning

A tingling, misty marvel
Blew hither in the night,
And now the little peach-trees
Are clasped in frozen light.

Upon the apple branches
An icy film is caught,
With trailing threads of gossamer
In pearly patterns wrought.

The autumn sun, in wonder,
Is gayly peering through
This silver tissued network
Across the frosty blue.

The weather vane is fire tipped,
The honeysuckle shows
A dazzling icy splendor,
And crystal is the rose.

Around the eaves are fringes
Of icicles that seem
To mock the summer rainbows
With many colored gleam.

Along the walk, the pebbles
Are each a precious stone;
The grass is tasseled hoarfrost,
The clover jewel sown.

Such sparkle, sparkle, sparkle
Fills all the frosty air,
Oh, can it be that darkness
Is ever anywhere!

~ Evaleen Stein

I like Stein's descriptions in this poem. They remind me of times when the world outside my window has glittered with ice or frost. I especially like the phrases "trailing threads of gossamer", "fringes/Of icicles", and "tasseled hoarfrost". Which words do you like best in this poem?

Fall Wind

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Fall Wind

Pods of summer crowd around the door;
I take them in the autumn of my hands.

Last night I heard the first cold wind outside;
the wind blew soft, and yet I shiver twice:

Once for thin walls, once for the sound of time.

~ William Stafford

I like the phrases "pods of summer" and "autumn of my hands". Reading this poem makes me shiver, too! How about you?

The Mist and All

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The Mist and All

I like the fall,
The mist and all.
I like the night owl’s
Lonely call—
And wailing sound
Of wind around.

I like the gray
November day,
And bare, dead boughs
That coldly sway
Against my pane.
I like the rain.

I like to sit
And laugh at it—
And tend
My cozy fire a bit.
I like the fall—
The mist and all—

~ Dixie Willson

I love the sounds in this poem, the rhythm and rhymes. Willson's words paint a picture in my head -- I  imagine myself relaxing by a crackling fire, rocking back and forth in a rocking chair, perhaps, and gazing out my window at the autumn mist. What do you see or hear or feel when you read the poem?

Down to Sleep

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Down to Sleep

November woods are bare and still;
November days are clear and bright;
Each noon burns up the morning's chill;
The morning's snow is gone by night.
Each day my steps grow slow, grow light,
As through the woods I reverent creep,
Watching all things lie "down to sleep."

I never knew before what beds,
Fragrant to smell, and soft to touch,
The forest sifts and shapes and spreads;
I never knew before how much
Of human sound there is in such
Low tones as through the forest sweep,
When all wild things lie "down to sleep."

Each day I find new coverlids
Tucked in, and more sweet eyes shut tight;
Sometimes the viewless mother bids
Her ferns kneel down full in my sight;
I hear their chorus of "good-night";
And half I smile, and half I weep,
Listening while they lie "down to sleep."

November woods are bare and still;
November days are bright and good;
Life's noon burns up life's morning chill;
Life's night rests feet which long have stood;
Some warm soft bed, in field or wood,
The mother will not fail to keep,
Where we can "lay us down to sleep."

~ Helen Hunt Jackson

Maybe it is only because she keeps repeating the words "down to sleep", but Jackson's poem reminds me of a lullaby, or a bedtime story. I can picture the trees, the undergrowth, the wild creatures all settling in for a long winter's nap. Reading this makes me want to curl up with a warm blanket and close my eyes... just for a few... short... minutes... zzzzzzz....

Splinter

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Splinter

The voice of the last cricket
across the first frost
is one kind of good-by.
It is so thin a splinter of singing.

~ Carl Sandburg

I love how Sandburg sets a mood in just four short lines. Reading his words leaves me feeling a little sad and fills my head with images of goodbyes, autumn, winter, the passage of time, and so much more. What does this poem say to you?

Who Are You, Little I

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who are you, little i

(five or six years old)
peering from some high

window;at the gold


of November sunset

(and feeling:that if day
has to become night

this is a beautiful way)

~ e. e. cummings

I am a big fan of e.e. cummings and his poetry. This poem is no exception. I love the nostalgic feeling in the words -- I, too, remember looking out my window as a young girl, watching the sun set. And I, too, believe that sunsets are a beautiful way for day to become night. Reading this poem makes my heart happy. :) What do you feel when you read it?

Good Company

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Good Company

When other flowers
Have gone away,
The goldenrod
And asters stay.

The asters with
Their purple blooms,
The goldenrod
In yellow plumes

Linger, though
The others flee,
And keep
October company.

~ Author unknown

The idea of the goldenrod and asters keeping October company makes me smile. :) I love to see them, too, their bright blooms adding color to the autumn scenery. I like the rhymes in this poem and the word "linger". What do you think of the poem?

Autumn, Queen of Year

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Autumn, Queen of Year

When the pumpkins are so yellow
And the vines with grapes abound,
When the melons are so mellow
And the nuts fall to the ground;
When persimmons lose their bitters,
And the apples are so red;
When we love to eat corn fritters
Since the roasting ears have fled;
When vacation days are over
And the children go to school,
They no longer play in clover,
But must learn "Arithmos-rule,"
When weird Hallowe'en's most naughty elves
With gnomes and sprites appear,
While fat Thanksgiving fills the shelves -
'Tis AUTUMN, QUEEN OF YEAR.

~ Winifred Sackville Stoner, Jr.

I like how Stoner calls Halloween "weird" and Thanksgiving "fat". I enjoy her rhymes, too. But my favorite thing about this poem is how autumn is named queen of the year. What do you like (or dislike) about the poem?

October's Bright Blue Weather

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October's Bright Blue Weather

O sun and skies and clouds of June
And flowers of June together,
Ye cannot rival for one hour
October's bright blue weather;

When loud the bumblebee makes haste,
Belated, thriftless vagrant,
And goldenrod is dying fast,
And lanes with grapes are fragrant;

When gentians roll their fringes tight,
To save them for the morning,
And chestnuts fall from satin burs
Without a sound of warning;

When on the ground red apples lie
In piles like jewels shining,
And redder still on old stone walls
Are leaves of woodbine twining;

When all the lovely wayside things
Their white-winged seeds are sowing,
And in the fields, still green and fair,
Late aftermaths are growing;

When springs run low, and on the brooks
In idle, golden freighting,
Bright leaves sink noiseless in the hush
Of woods, for winter waiting;

When comrades seek sweet country haunt
By twos and twos together,
And count like misers hour by hour
October's bright blue weather.

O sun and skies and flowers of June,
Count all your boasts together,
Love loveth best of all the year
October's bright blue weather.

~ Helen Hunt Jackson

Sunny October skies are my favorite of the year! I love the title of this poem and the many images that Jackson paints with her words -- they are all things that I adore about this month, too. I especially like the phrases "leaves of woodbine twining" and "white-winged seeds". Which words stand out the most to you? Do you agree with Jackson's sentiment on October's bright blue weather?

Such an amazing world...

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An excerpt:

     "Look at something small," Lina said. "Like a leaf or a bug."

     Doon riffled among the leaves on the ground and found an ant, which he set on the palm of his hand. Holding the glass above the ant, he looked through it. "Oh!" he said. "Look! You can see its knee joints! And even..." He trailed off, absorbed in looking. Then he raised his eyes to Lina. "It's like a miracle!" he said. He blew the ant from his palm and looked around until he found a beetle. "Look at this!" he cried. "You can see it chewing!" He tried a feather, and a bit of moth wing, and a blade of grass.

     "This is such an amazing world," he said finally, putting the glass and the magnet into his pocket. "I love it here, except for the troubles with people."

~ from The People of Sparks,

written by Jeanne DuPrau

Have you ever looked at nature through a magnifying glass, like Doon does in this excerpt? There are so many little details that we normally overlook or can't even see without one. We really do live in an amazing, wonderful world -- except for the troubles with people.