Once, a Bird

Written by Rina Singh

Illustrated by Nathalie Dion

Orca Book Publishers

978-1-4598-3143-8

32 pp.

Ages 3-6

September 2023 

 

I know many people are trying to forget a time of lockdowns and restricted movements during the early years of the pandemic. But Rina Singh and Nathalie Dion's story reminds us of the gifts of nature and community that were revealed during those tenuous times. And though their story takes us out of those times, it never lets us forget what discoveries were made when tensions were high, isolation was the norm, and health was insecure.

From Once, a Bird, written by Rina Singh, illustrated by Nathalie Dion

Without words, Rina Singh tells a story of the arrival of a robin to a land of complexity and quiet. There may be snow on the ground but as the bird travels over parks, highways, and agricultural fields, there is no one to be seen. It is people-less and still. It could be a dystopian landscape, but Nathalie Dion gives us hope and light in the greenness of the fields, the blues of the skies and the unscathed infrastructure.

From Once, a Bird, written by Rina Singh, illustrated by Nathalie Dion

The bird finds its way to a budding tree outside a walk-up apartment building where an elderly woman spots it. She alone is looking out her windows as her neighbours keep their blinds and curtains closed. But then others take in the sight of the robin, each in their own way. Whether it be a grandson and grandfather watching it with binoculars, or a young person taking photos with her phone, or two children chatting between windows. Even a new puppy dog is held up to witness the bird.

 
As life goes on for the bird, building its nest, laying its eggs, and feeding its young, the neighbourhood begins to open up: a door, a window, a walk with the dog. And, with time, the neighbourhood returns to normal as the bird and its young fly off, having taken the people through the tough times.

From Once, a Bird, written by Rina Singh, illustrated by Nathalie Dion

Although the audience for Once, a Bird is listed as 3-5 years of age, the depth of the storytelling is far greater, and could be for all ages. Rina Singh has given a nuanced story of isolation and connection with nature that may have been born of a pandemic, and all who have been living with solitude and/or withdrawal, whether because of distance, mental health, or even personality, will also understand. She offers hope that separation does not mean desolation, and that opening oneself to the natural world can help sustain us.

I've reviewed a number of picture books illustrated by Montreal's Nathalie Dion (e.g., The Big Bad Wolf in My House, I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree, The Dog's Gardener) and her watercolour and gouache art lends itself well to contemplative stories such as Once, a Bird. There is an intangible, almost divine, sense of beauty that comes from both introspection and deep relationships depicted in her illustrations. Her art is sensitive to the ephemeral nature of challenges, keeping her colours subdued but calm, and introducing brighter colours, initially only on the robin, as the people emerge, and the neighbourhood returns to life.

 

For hope through difficult times, take note of how once a bird brought a community together, and how Rina Singh and Nathalie Dion were able to do the same to tell its and our story.

 

• • • • • • • 

A French-language edition is also available as Il était une fois un oiseau.

 

 

My Mad Hair Day

Written and illustrated by Nathalie Dion

Groundwood Books

978-1-77306-511-3

44 pp.

Ages 3-6

September 2021

 

While many admire voluminous hair, Malie thinks her tangled mess of golden locks are a curse, especially when she tries to tame it. But, somehow, through a series of unfortunate events, Malie finds a way to appreciate the hair she has.

 

From My Mad Hair Day by Nathalie Dion

Combing it or hiding it under her cap just doesn't work for Malie. However, as much as she'd like to hide away in her closet, her mother has other ideas, sending the child out on some errands.

From My Mad Hair Day by Nathalie Dion

Contending with the wind that carries her billowing hair away and the rain that frizzes it out, Malie trudges through the town on her errands. Along the way, her hair gathers a menagerie of items as it bumps into them or as they fall into or choose to enter it. There are cupcakes, birds, a lamb, a grand piano and even a child on a tricycle.

From My Mad Hair Day by Nathalie Dion

Overwhelmed by the burden of her tresses, Malie takes a much-needed time out in a park and awakens to a new appreciation of her hair, courtesy of the cache within.

 

From My Mad Hair Day by Nathalie Dion

Of course My Mad Hair Day is a little silly but it's based in a whole lot of reality for those with wildly curly hair, especially if it's also long. I see from her head shots online that author-illustrator Nathalie Dion too has lovely blonde curls and I suspect that she wrote this, her first picture book as author and illustrator, from personal experience. Like a tall tale, Nathalie Dion starts with a germ of reality, that of dealing with unmanageable hair, and blows it up to epic proportions, from the child just trying to comb her hair to absorbing the shock of a falling piano and a lamb confusing the curls for its mother. Then with her watercolour and digital art, Nathalie Dion bolsters that wackiness with extraordinary hair that monopolizes the scenes as it does Malie's life. (That one illustration, seen above, of Malie's mane extending the length of three houses is very telling.) I'll bet this is exactly what children with long curly hair appreciate each morning as they struggle to tame their locks, undoubtedly often throwing their hands up in defeat. 

But Nathalie Dion does not leave Malie defeated. She doesn't let her wallow in her copious hair and frazzle her into gloom. Instead, a "time-out" helps the child gain a fresh perspective on the marvel that is her hair and reach a new level of self-acceptance, something most of us need to learn for ourselves.

• • • • • • •

A French language edition, titled L'ébouriffée, has also been released this month from Dominique et compagnie.

The Dog's Gardener

 

Written by Patricia Storms

Illustrated by Nathalie Dion

Groundwood Books

978-1-77306-256-3

36 pp.

Ages 4-7

April 2021

Depending on where you are located in Canada, Patricia Storms's story of The Dog's Gardener may already be in full swing or just starting, or perhaps a few weeks away if there are still occasional frosts. But, as the gardening season slowly ramps up, you know there are dogs like Dutch who are ready for the outdoors.

 

From The Dog's Gardener by Patricia Storms, illus. by Nathalie Dion

Told from a dog's perspective, The Dog's Gardener recounts a day of togetherness. From the early morning when Dutch hears her footsteps but waits for her to wake him up, pretending "to be asleep, just so I can hear her gentle voice."  And...

Then I wait for those beautiful words.

"Okay, Dutch. Let's go outside."

With that, the two companions make their way outdoors to an expansive garden of trees, flowers, and vegetables.

From The Dog's Gardener by Patricia Storms, illus. by Nathalie Dion

He knows her routines, from her heading to the dark and dusty shed that frightens him, to her midday rest at the great stump. And he has his own routines, waiting outside as she gets her tools from the little house, to rolling in the grass and napping at her feet when she rests, and anticipating the delight that comes with the turning on of the water hose.

From The Dog's Gardener by Patricia Storms, illus. by Nathalie Dion

Their day of gardening is a lesson in mindfulness, focusing on the task at hand, whether it be digging, watering, rolling or resting. And it's about being together with someone who is different and appreciates the same things but differently.

The Dog's Gardener is a lazy, summertime read of such depth of feeling between a dog and a human that the outdoors almost feels like another character in their story. Patricia Storms, whose picture books include Moon Wishes and Never Let You Go, conveys that contentment of task and company, together but separate, each pursuing outdoor joy, ending her story, as the pair head inside at the end of the day, with a single significant word: together.

Nathalie Dion, whose illustrations graced both The Big Bad Wolf in My House and I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree, does well in creating artwork for stories with emotional connections between characters, even if those characters are non-human. Because the relationship in The Dog's Gardener is one of serenity and affection, Nathalie Dion's illustrations, which are created with hand-painted gouache textures combined with painting using a digital pastel brush, are reflective of its uplifting nature. The colours are warm and bright, the activity of dog and human are distinct and harmonious, and the story moves gently from morning to end of day.

For dog-lovers and gardeners, The Dog's Gardener is a complete package of fellowship and appreciation for the now, of undertakings and of company, of surroundings and of inclinations. For those who are neither, The Dog's Gardener is what we should be: mindful of what we're doing and with whom and appreciating every positive moment.

The Big Bad Wolf in My House

Written by Valérie Fontaine

Illustrated by Nathalie Dion

Translated by Shelley Tanaka

Groundwood Books

978-1-77306-501-4

32 pp.

Ages 5-8

March 2021

It's International Women's Day and, to women who find themselves in abusive home circumstances and explore ways to cope including fighting back legally or finding shelter elsewhere, we stand by you, and Valérie Fontaine and Nathalie Dion offer hope.

From The Big Bad Wolf in My House by Valérie Fontaine, illus. by Nathalie Dion

A little girl could always see through the wolf who married her mother.

He batted his eyelashes and purred like a pussycat

in front of my mother.

But he looked at me with cold eyes and sharp teeth.

The honeymoon was sour, like lemons.

From The Big Bad Wolf in My House by Valérie Fontaine, illus. by Nathalie Dion

But when her mother gets home late from work one day, the wolf show his true self, shouting names and hurling food. The child removes herself from the situation, but she can see the impact it has on her mother whose smile begins to droop along with her body.

From The Big Bad Wolf in My House by Valérie Fontaine, illus. by Nathalie Dion

Her mother tries to shield her child but the wolf is scary, leaving finger marks on the girl's arms and coming into her room as he chooses.

From The Big Bad Wolf in My House by Valérie Fontaine, illus. by Nathalie Dion

But one day, with only five minutes notice, her mother declares that they are leaving. They go to a house full of kind mothers and children but no wolves. 

The big bad wolf can huff and puff all he wants,

but this house will not fall down.

The little girl knows the tale about a big bad wolf. It's the one where he huffs and puffs to blow the house down. The little ones in the story try to protect themselves in shelters of straw and wood but to no avail. Same with this child. She tries a fortress of blankets to shield herself, or a closed door of wood but neither stops the big bad wolf. She does build "a fort made of bricks. I put it up around my heart." But it's not until they go to a new house, a shelter for women and children, that they find safety.

Told from the child's perspective and analogous to the story of the big bad wolf and the three little pigs, The Big Bad Wolf in My House makes a situation of domestic abuse very disquietingly elementary. The mother marries a man who is abusive to her and her child. He may appear sheep-like to begin with but he's dangerous. Both mother and child find ways to cope with the physical or emotional attacks, but coping is not safety. It's just a delay. Both in its original French (Le grand méchant loup dans ma maison, 2020) and this English edition (translated by Shelley Tanaka), Valérie Fontaine's story demonstrates the impact of domestic abuse on the whole family and how adults and children find their own ways to survive. Though she parallelizes the chilling abuse of a man against his new wife and stepchild with a child's fable, Valérie Fontaine never, never trivializes the situation, only gives it context. After all, the big bad wolf could be any one. 

I was just introduced to Nathalie Dion's work last week (I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree by Jean E. Pendziwol) and realize how versatile her art is, creating lightness and hope in one book and now tension and despair in The Big Bad Wolf in My House. Painting by hand with gouache and digitally with a pastel brush, Nathalie Dion still imbues her illustrations with the starkness of the family situation, engulfed with shadows and angles and using colour and lightness minimally and generally only associated with the child or situations outside the home. 

Some may despair of this tale of domestic abuse but Valérie Fontaine and Nathalie Dion have taken us through the darkness from a child's perspective and shown us an outcome that offers the promise of respite.

From The Big Bad Wolf in My House by Valérie Fontaine, illus. by Nathalie Dion

I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree

Written by Jean E. Pendziwol

Illustrated by Nathalie Dion

Groundwood Books

978-1-77306-220-4

32 pp.

Ages 3-7

September 2020

With spring on the horizon and hope finally blooming, I can't think of a better time to review Jean E. Pendziwol's latest picture book, I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree, illustrated by Montreal's Nathalie Dion.

Who needs toys when you have the natural world as a play thing and mate? First, a little girl, with her beautiful Siamese cat, finds joy in the shadows created by sunshine pouring in through a window or a skylight.

From I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree by Jean E. Pendziwol, illus. by Nathalie Dion

Though she recognizes that they might only stay around for a short time–maybe minutes, maybe days–or even disappear, she knows the shadows will always come back.

From I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree by Jean E. Pendziwol, illus. by Nathalie Dion

When the child and cat head outside where...

I can hear the wind tell stories,

whispering

to the trees

making them

laugh and sigh.

...there is new play to be had. The weather and the natural world can bring quiet stories that whisper or dance, or rush through. And when in her bed, beneath a red blanket worn as a cape, when the stories creep in to nibble her toes, she's the one to tell the stories.

Bundled up in her colourful coat, red boots, and woolens, she imagines the snowflakes as bringing the flavour of clouds, even when icy and sharp. Though everything, whether shadows, stories or snowflakes, can have a downside, there is always hope.

But the cherry tree

knows this:

it is hope in autumn

that brings

flowers in spring.

From I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree by Jean E. Pendziwol, illus. by Nathalie Dion

There may be hope in the buds of the cherry tree but it's everywhere in Jean E. Pendziwol's story. It's in the shadow that changes shape and size, and can disappear but always comes back; in the wild stories that can be tamed; and in the snowflakes that can prickle and freeze but delight. Jean E. Pendziwol makes this child's imaginative play a wholly sensory experience of insight and appreciation for her world, even when unpredictable or ambiguous. And it's the hope for better or more or even the same goodness that enriches her play.

 

I know that Nathalie Dion has illustrated many picture books, including French-language ones, but this is my first for review and  I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree begs me to add her to my 2021 listings of Canadian illustrators of note. (Listings were already posted in 2013, 2015, 2017 and 2019.) Her art, a mix of traditional and digital paintings, then cut, transformed and manipulated in Photoshop, has an ethereal quality to it that suggests much of the play is in the child's head, not in her feet and hands. Even in the darkness of late-night storytelling, Nathalie Dion suggests a lightness of message with a child immersed in thought and perception.

Play can be more than activity. It can be in the soul that sees beyond the doing, the now, the ephemeral. It can be in the hope of possibilities and Jean E. Pendziwol and Nathalie Dion help us see this in I Found Hope in a Cherry Tree.