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Summary
Summary
A tender new story from the award-winning creator of Julián Is a Mermaid celebrates first-time camping, father-child bonding, and feeling at one with the universe.
"We're going camping, you and me."
"Where?" I ask.
"The desert," says Dad . . . "To shake hands with the universe."
Going to bed each night can be dark and scary. The night sky stretches out endlessly, making one sensitive child feel small in comparison. So Dad comes up with a plan: a night of camping out in the desert. Together, the two load up Darlin', the old pickup truck, and drive over the mountain with the radio on, stopping to shoot the breeze at a junkyard before setting up camp, jumping in sand dunes, and lying back to name all the birds they can see. After sunset, when the young thinker feels tiny against the vast sky, Dad knows just what to ask--and just what to say--to soothe away fears. Maybe this night spent under the stars (and a surprise from Mom and the baby later) are just what is needed to show that the universe is a friendly place. From acclaimed author-illustrator Jessica Love comes a story of small moments between father and child that affirms the comfort of finding one's place in the world.
Reviews (2)
Horn Book Review
A redheaded child looks a little skeptical when Dad announces over breakfast that the two of them are going camping in the desert "to shake hands with the universe." After saying goodbye to Mom and the baby, they pack up Darlin', their pickup truck, and set off. The child narrator notices the change in smells as they drive up into the mountains, which have "charred black trees and also a lot of flowers." Love pairs this imagery with a page of labeled mountain flowers. After stopping by a junkyard to pick up spare parts and chat with the owner, parent and child set up camp by the sand dunes. At night they lie under a cozy blanket on Darlin's bed and name stars after the things they have seen that day. The narrator is comforted by the idea that "we're all made of the same stuff, in different bodies." Love's watercolor, gouache, and ink illustrations include both factual information (the steps to build a fire) and warm, loving scenes of father and child together. By the time they return home, the child's body language is relaxed and content, and they greet Mom and baby happily. The desire for one-on-one attention from a parent is one many children will relate to, and the final picture shows the child as a constellation, "at home in the universe." Susan Dove LempkeMarch/April 2023 p.49 (c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Kirkus Review
Under the desert night sky, Dad helps his child find cosmic comfort. The vast universe has made a child feel too small despite their close family. Until, the young narrator tells us, they and their father pack their old pickup, driving through the "rubber and french fries" smell of the city and the "sweet and smoky" mountain scent to camp off-road in a remote arroyo. Together they see tiny beetle prints, jump in sand dunes, name birds, build a fire, watch the sunset, and stretch out in the truck bed. A thoughtful, small human, the child admits to being scared of "how big the universe is and how it goes on and on forever." But equally thoughtful Dad explains that stars, beetles, birds, and even people are made of energy. Angst is not easily tamed, but snuggling and giving the constellations idiosyncratic names help, as does Mom's back-at-home surprise: glowing stars covering the narrator's room. In this bed under the stars, this budding philosopher finally feels "at home here in the universe." It's a quiet, contemplative tale that might not strike a chord with all readers but will reassure those who share the protagonist's worries. Delicate, realistic art plays warm orange and brown hues against blues from pale to indigo, balancing (living) warmth and (interstellar) distance. The child and family are light-skinned and redheaded. (This book was reviewed digitally.) A lovely vision for small, sensitive existentialists. (Picture book. 6-8) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
