I don’t love summer and I’ll be the first to admit that I am a hard person to love when it’s hot. The heat — and I define “heat” as anything above 75 degrees — makes me irritable and desperate to escape my own skin. I love the sun but also feel oppressed by it — even though I credit it in large part with healing me from an ongoing illness I thought I’d never recover from — and some days the best I can do is come home, go to the lower level of my house (built into the side of a hill), close all the curtains, and try to be kind to myself and my family. (Sometimes it works, but only sometimes.)
I’m not proud of this behavior or these feelings — you’d think someone who lives in a place where it’s legit winter six months or the year or more would feel a little more grateful when things are beautiful, and I do. I am. I mean, I think it’s worth saying that I find it beautiful all year round, in all kinds of weather, but I understand the luck of sunshine and warmth. I am not entirely immune to baring my shoulders and knees and turning my face to the sky.
And when I stop for a minute and think, even if I can’t love it all, there’s still a lot to like: I like my husband’s wild approach to gardening and how he fills every free area with flowers that overflow their beds and their beauty for months; I like that we spend hours discussing what’s happening in our yard. (Marry a person who will talk nematodes with you at great length and put in ground-level bird baths so your local amphibians have a water source even though he complains they will turn into mosquito breeding grounds — I cannot recommend someone who is curious about your curiosity highly enough.)
I like coming home from work totally miserable and retreating to the neighborhood pool with my kids, my face in a National Geographic that’s only four months old if I’m lucky, surrounded by mom bodies that make me feel more accepting — even tender — towards my own, all of us just out here living. I like driving out to the country to pick up our CSA and feeling awed, every time, that we know where our food comes from and, better, the people who grow it with their own hands and hard work. I like making a bunch of different kinds of sun tea, and managing our compost, and listening to the wavy sound of the wind in the white pines, and sleeping with all the windows open, and laying on my deck at about 8pm and watching the stars come out and the bats fly. (I especially like how I can hear the bats’ wings — a sort of click that’s also not a click — and wonder where they’ve been and where they’re going.)
I don’t love summer — I probably never will, though I will never give up trying to be a better person. But I am committed to the practice of being present to a great enough degree that I can recognize — even revere — the rich depth of every season, even this one, and remember that I am undeniably, unaccountably lucky to be alive in this resplendent, irresistible world.
Which makes me think of the Wendell Berry poem, “A Peaceful Heart:”
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.
Indeed.
My Ocean is Blue by Darren Lebeuf, illustrated by Ashley Barron (2020)
Don’t let this seemingly quiet meditation on all the things the ocean is — big and small, slimy and sandy, laughing and humming, appearing and disappearing — fool you into thinking it’s uninteresting: young children are especially drawn to the sensory details of the seashore, which Lebeuf does an especially lovely job of depicting here, in a tender snapshot of a mother and daughter’s day together on a beach.
Barron’s cut-paper collage, watercolor, acrylic, and pencil crayon images are somewhat subdued but also kind of exceptionally beautiful — much like the ocean itself, sometimes — and stand out for featuring, without special emphasis, a young girl who uses forearm crutches.
This paean to the ocean, seen through the eyes of a curious little explorer, is the perfect read to kickoff a hot, watery summer.
The Leaf Men and the Brave Good Bugs by William Joyce (1996)
When the brave good doodle bugs march off to save the garden, they encounter enough peril to make even the most courageous want to turn back — there’s an evil Spider Queen to deal with, along with a naysaying Long-Lost Toy — but thankfully they’re just strong enough to summon the valiant Leaf Men, who are themselves “tiny of body but brave of heart.”
This wild, weird adventure story is pure Joyce — he of the Guardians of Childhood stories, which have much the same vibe, right down to the watercolor, oil, acrylic, pen and ink, colored pencils, and digital illustrations that give this book an otherworldly feeling — perfect for kiddos who enjoy peril, but also, like most of us, a good old happy ending.
Swashby and the Sea by Beth Ferry, illustrated by Juana Martinez-Neal (2020)
Every time we pick up this book I smile, and not just because Martinez-Neal’s fabulous acrylic, colored pencil, and graphite illustrations have that effect on me no matter the title, but also because Ferry has written such a charming, lovely story in Swashby and the Sea.
Captain Swashby is a loner who just wants to enjoy his retirement in a small house on a small beach, but one day an annoying little girl and her granny move in next door and commandeer his peace. This little girl sings. She talks. Swashby leaves her clear messages in the sand — NO TRESPASSING and NOW VANISH; dude just wants to be left alone! and I can seriously relate — but she perseveres, as nuisances tend to do, until the sea overtakes her one afternoon, and Swashby leaps in to save the day.
Everything changes after this moment, of course — most, if not all, adult readers will see that coming — but it doesn’t take anything away from the deep sweetness of this story about cheerfulness, friendship, and letting down your guard. After all, we all need people to rescue us sometimes — from ourselves and from the sea.
Lemonade for Sale by Stuart J. Murphy, illustrated by Tricia Tusa (1998)
If you’ve been a subscriber for a little bit you know how much I believe in using children’s books to develop mathematical thinking, so I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to share with you a delightful summertime math reader.
Here, the four Elm Street Kids’ Club members need to raise money to fix their clubhouse, so they decide to open a lemonade stand. They’re very methodical about the whole thing — they even develop a bar graph to chart their progress (which is where the sneaky but fun math comes in) — until they run up against a problem in the form of another kid raising money by juggling. I won’t spoil how they tackle the competition — you’ll have to read it, and enjoy Tusa’s amusing watercolor and ink illustrations — to find how what happens, but suffice it to say that the minute I put this one out on our front-facing shelf every summer, I prepare myself to read it to my children again and again: it’s that kind of fun.
Khalil and Mr. Hagerty and the Backyard Treasures by Tricia Springstubb, illustrated by Elaheh Taherian (2020)
In this sweet story of intergenerational friendship, Khalil and his big, noisy family live upstairs from quiet Mr. Hagerty, but the two both love hanging out in the backyard. Though Mr. Hagerty is more interested in his garden and Khalil in finding buried treasure, they bond over words, “refreshments” — chocolate cake and glasses of milk — and the optimism of a new day.
Though this is a quiet story without an enormous amount of action, Taherian’s collage with oil and colored-pencil illustrations are cheerful and charming and do a perfect job of depicting the affection and admiration present between adult and child here, which emphasizes the underlying message that sometimes the greatest treasure one can find is a friend.
🥕 GIVEAWAY! I have a brand-new copy of this book to gift to one lucky subscriber — to enter to win, fill out this short form.
Scoot! by Cathryn Falwell (2008)
I’ve said it before but it bears repeating: you can never go wrong with a Cathryn Falwell book, especially if you have a toddler or preschooler, and Scoot! lives up to this high standard in every respect.
This rhyming romp through a pond on a sunny summer’s day offers young kiddos all the joy of being outside, deep in observation — the sounds and sensations you can experience if you get quiet, look, and listen — including the mysterious magic of “six silent turtles sitting still as stones.” Add to this Falwell’s gorgeous collage illustrations and you have the perfect book to kick off a visit to a pond, whether in real life or a rich imagination.
Healer of the Water Monster by Brian Young, illustrated by Shonto Begay (2021)
Nathan, an 11yo Diné (Navajo) boy is spending his summer somewhat off the grid, in a mobile home on the Navajo reservation with his grandmother, Nali. One night he gets lost in the desert and encounters a Holy Being from the Navajo creation story, a sick water monster whom he calls Pond.
While Nathan agrees to go on a journey to the Third World to find medicine for Pond, he’s also grappling with the problems of his uncle Jet, a veteran sinking under mental health issues and alcoholism (and a refusal to participate in the traditional healing ceremonies of their people).
I won’t give away the ending of this beautiful story chock-full of healing (as well as the melding of contemporary life and traditional Navajo practices, including the frequent use of Navajo words), merely say that the principal point of pleasure in this book is the ushering of the reader into the Diné sensibility of the world — not merely the idea that there are beings all around us of which we’re not aware, but that we are never alone, that we need each other for help and healing, and that we can all be healed.
(Also of note is the fact that this is the first middle-grade novel to be written by a Navajo author and illustrated by a Navajo artist. These things matter.)
From the Bellybutton of the Moon and Other Summer Poems / Del Ombligo de la Luna y Otros Poemas de Verano by Francisco X. Alarcón, illustrated by Maya Christina Gonzalez (1998)
Poetry for kids: can’t stop, won’t (ever) stop, so I see it as my personal job to keep putting excellent poetry books in front of you.
Enter From the Bellybutton of the Moon, a super-summery bilingual tome — part of Alarcòn’s and Gonzalez’ fantastic seasonal series — celebrating Mexico, family, ancient wisdom, weather, water, and more. Most of the poems here are bite-sized yet meant to be savored, like my favorite, “Question,” in its entirety:
can question marks
by any chance
really be
little seahorses?
I don’t love summer, but this cheerful book makes me want to savor the bright beauty — often found in small things — accessible to us all.
Also highly recommended
If I have reviewed any of these titles in the past, I’ve linked to those here.
Splash, Anna Hibiscus! by Atinuke
Poppy’s Babies by Jill Barklem
The First Strawberries by Joseph Bruchac
Rain Play by Cynthia Cotten
Jabari Jumps by Gaia Cornwall
Raven and the Tide Lady by Pauline Duncan
The Fisherman and His Wife, retold by Rachel Isadora
The Color of Us by Karen Katz
Please, Puppy, Please by Spike Lee and Tonya Lewis Lee
Nicholas Cricket by Joyce Maxner
Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey
Flossie and the Fox by Patricia K. McKissack
Hands and Hearts by Donna Jo Napoli
Pie is for Sharing by Stephanie Parsley Ledyard
Natsumi’s Song of Summer by Robert Paul Weston
The Bee Tree by Patricia Polacco
Thundercake by Patricia Polacco
Summertime Sleepers: Animals That Estivate by Melissa Stewart
Blue on Blue by Dianne White
Quick as a Cricket by Audrey Wood
Poetry
Flower Fairies of the Summer by Cicely Mary Barker
Water Sings Blue: Ocean Poems by Kate Coombs
In the Swim by Douglas Florian
Honey, I Love by Eloise Greenfield
Sail Away by Langston Hughes
The Owl and the Pussycat by Edward Lear, illustrated by Jan Brett
Trout, Trout, Trout: A Fish Chant by April Pulley Sayre
Dark Emperor and Other Poems of the Night by Joyce Sidman
A Stick is an Excellent Thing by Marilyn Singer
Anna’s Garden Songs by Mary Q. Steele
Anna’s Summer Songs by Mary Q. Steele
Especially for babies and toddlers
Pippa and Pelle in the Summer Sun by Daniela Drescher (part of the Pippa and Pelle seasonal series)
Goodnight Sweet Butterflies by Melanie Gerth
Ten Little Ladybugs by Melanie Gerth
In My Ocean by Sara Gillingham
On My Leaf by Sara Gillingham
Ten Magic Butterflies by Danica McKeller
Leo Can Swim! by Anna McQuinn
Summer by Gerda Muller (Muller’s wordless seasonal series captivates this age group)
Baby Beluga by Raffi (a singing book)
Hello Summer! by Shelley Rotner
The Little Mouse, The Red Ripe Strawberry, and The Big Hungry Bear by Don and Audrey Wood
For older readers or read-alouds
The Little Grey Men by B.B.
Hickory by Palmer Brown
The Burgess Seashore Book for Children by Thornton Burgess
The Princess in Black Takes a Vacation by Shannon Hale (early chapter book)
Moominsummer Madness by Tove Jansson
The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate by Jacqueline Kelly
Harriet’s Hare by Dick King-Smith
The Summer Party by Cynthia Rylant (one of The Cobble Street Cousins series)
The Wainscott Weasel by Tor Seidler
One Crazy Summer by Rita Williams-Garcia (the first in the Gaither Sisters trilogy)
Everything else
The Grey Lady and the Strawberry Snatcher by Molly Bang
Captain Jack and the Pirates by Peter Bently
One-Dog Canoe by Mary Casanova
Bubbles...Up! by Jacqueline Davies
In the Tall, Tall Grass by Denise Fleming
If You Want to See a Whale by Julie Fogliano
One Dark Night by Hazel Hutchins
Sometimes Rain by Meg Fleming
The Raft by Jim LaMarche
Summertime in the Big Woods (My First Little House Book) by Laura Ingalls Wilder
Waiting Out the Storm by Joann Early Macken
The Camping Trip by Jennifer K. Mann
The Sandcastle that Lola Built by Megan Maynor
Cyrus the Unsinkable Sea Serpent by Bill Peet
Kermit the Hermit by Bill Peet
At the Beach by Anne Rockwell
All You Need for a Beach by Alice Schertle
Amos and Boris by William Steig
Backyard Fairies by Phoebe Wahl
And, a printable PDF of this booklist 🖨️
I have a Bookshop.org list, Books for summer, in case you like to visually browse and/or support independent bookstores (and, in a much smaller way, me — I get a tiny commission if you use this link to make a purchase).
May you soak in the season and stay present, in the sunshine 🌞 and otherwise
Sarah
I hear you! I love the experience of pools and Csa’s but summer can be so stressful for families as the schedule changes every day and the pull between work and time with your children feels like a bad game of tug a war. Thank you for sharing summer books as I love to read everything about the ocean with my children. I had not seen the Ocean is Blue yet and I am already ordering it.
Come to Scotland, you'll only get a full week of summer!