Sullivan—who has been to outer space and the ocean floor—teams up with Rosen for this conversational scientific travelogue that recounts her journey to the deepest place on Earth, Challenger Deep. The book opens with personal history delivered in a friendly tone, then invites readers to accompany the speaker on an expedition to take pressure measurements. Along the way, text engages with prompts for reflection (“Which would you choose: astronaut or... aquanaut?”). Given a textbook-like layout with ample photos and occasional doodle-like charcoal drawings by Rosen, the dense account is frequently quantitative: “The pressure is crushing (almost 400 times more than at the surface) but we are safe in our sphere.” While a graph paper backdrop lends the vibe of a field notebook, interrogative subheadings and sidebars offer a mixture of science instruction and oceanography history (“Why is a sphere the right shape for a submersible?”). It’s a companionable guide to the ocean’s depths as well as to opportunities, “fueled by imagination,” that expanded Sullivan’s world. Background figures portrayed with various skin tones. Ages 7–9. (June)

Reviewed on 04/03/2026 | Details & Permalink

Boston Weatherford and Ibatoulline offer 14 different angles on jellyfish in this reverent, notebook-like assemblage of facts and appreciations. The creative team’s “ways of looking” range from literally peering at jellyfish in a creek to contemplating them through the eyes of a biologist who “saw his late wife’s reflection in a jellyfish.” Spreads also cite the subjects’ “unusual common names” (e.g., “fried egg”), scientific classification, and more. While one section touches on the jellyfish life cycle, others address the creatures’ more dangerous qualities (“Jellies kill more humans than sharks do”). Utilizing a range of materials, illustrations present varied techniques and styles, from a fantastical spread emulating Japanese woodblock prints to a pop art–like comic to scientific sketches. The result is a wonder-inspiring tribute to these aquatic animals and their “otherworldly light.” A bibliography and further resources conclude. Ages 6–8. (May)

Reviewed on 04/03/2026 | Details & Permalink

Vibrant mixed-media artwork and science-led storytelling introduce sea horses and the environmental pressures they face in this matter-of-fact tribute from Davies and Baker-Smith. Polished text foregrounds unique characteristics, marveling at how the animals survive by camouflaging and staying “very, very still. Only their eyes move.” After establishing the subjects’ diminutive size and propensity for hiding, the book’s focus shifts to challenges based in human-driven destruction, zeroing in on how and why it’s so hard to spot the species in their natural environment (“Seahorses are hard to see because humans have taken so many of them from the oceans”). Rendering the multicolored seahorses with detail, mixed-media paintings mingle stamp-like textures and sun-print-reminiscent botanical silhouettes. The bracing portrait that emerges successfully rallies readers in support of seahorses. Human figures are portrayed with various skin tones. Back matter discusses seahorses and climate change. Ages 5–9. (May)

Reviewed on 04/03/2026 | Details & Permalink

A zone-by-zone tour of the ocean’s depths proves awe-inspiring in McIntyre and Wright’s immersive tale of a submersible expedition. Emphasizing the aquatic ecosystem’s immense biodiversity, second-person narration transforms the reader into an explorer. Diving into the sunlight zone, the pictured craft “might pass sardines schooling,/ tuna rising”; in the twilight zone, “a giant squid might jet by”; and in the midnight zone, one might “listen to your heart thump, knowing/ that, nearby, giants hunt unseen.” Upon readers’ arrival at the abyssal and hadal zones, the book’s orientation rotates. Rendered with gouache, ink, and acrylic, velvety blue paintings convey the ocean’s fathomless qualities. In one scene, marine snow fills a spread like scratches on a film negative; in another, a sea cucumber floats within the subtle frame of a vessel’s window. Emphasizing the depths traveled, this trip to the ocean’s floor amazes. An author’s note kicks off extensive back matter. Ages 5–8. (May)

Reviewed on 04/03/2026 | Details & Permalink

MacLean paints darkness as mysterious and magical for a wondrous deep dive into the topic. An opening question sets the tone (“Do you know the dark?”) before leading into brief probing lines that begin with a repeated intonation: “In the dark,/ roots grow, soil is churned,/ and seeds prepare to sprout.” Alongside lyrical prose, acrylic gouache, acrylic ink, crayon, and digital illustrations offer blacklight-esque renderings of habitats including a creature-filled forest, a hibernating bear’s den, and the deep ocean. Gradually, storytelling shifts from snapshots of darkness to human activities, showcasing figures interacting with bioluminescence, playing hide-and-seek, and enjoying a planetarium film. “In the dark,/ imagination blooms.../ and dreams come to visit,” suggests atmospheric text, aptly highlighting a sense of possibility. Capturing something of the universe’s enigmatic magnificence, this brightly imagined work illuminates the most dimly lit environments. Ages 4–8. (May)

Reviewed on 04/03/2026 | Details & Permalink

Guided by bubbles, “doughnut” holes, and puddles on a sandy beach, a child and their uncle hunt clams under a full moon in Wells and Rahman’s luminous picture book. When the young narrator grows cold and sleepy before finding a single clam (“they too fast!”), the youth imagines the “chowders, dips, and pizzas” that will result from the catch. After a s’mores break in front of a bonfire with Mama and a younger sibling, the two resume the hunt, and the child finally reaches deep into the sand, finding a “HUGE” clam—and a messy surprise that becomes part of the night’s magic. Purples and yellows recur across velvety, light-dappled illustrations that capture the nighttime atmosphere and the family’s interactions. It’s a jubilant, anecdotal-feeling celebration of intergenerational bonding and the natural world. Characters are portrayed with brown skin. Back matter includes an author’s note and info about clam types. Ages 3–6. (May)

Reviewed on 04/03/2026 | Details & Permalink

In a meaningful and emotionally aware story by Swemba and Walker-Parker, the night sky provides a link for “be-there-for-you-always” friends separated by a relocation. After “Vera and Grace’s close friendship moved galaxies away,” Vera longs for her “wishing-on-stars” pal. Each night, Vera finds her own favorite star and whispers a hope for Grace’s return, but when the season changes and the star itself goes missing, she’s bereft. A trip to the library yields astronomical answers, a new friendship, and a plan to share her sky with her old friend via a homemade star map. Crisp, on-theme narration astutely observes the protagonist’s emotional growth (“Vera found herself in a new galaxy”). Loosely detailed with fine lines, digital illustrations draw on emerald and sapphire tones and use a spray effect to add dazzle to the sky. The result is an aptly illuminating look at stargazing’s ability to comfort and unite. An endnote and activity conclude. Ages 4–8. (May)

Reviewed on 04/03/2026 | Details & Permalink

Rajunov’s soaring story spotlights a creaturely “guy who lives on the ground” and ponders what it would be like to live in the sky. Following musings on terrestrial life (“I hate it here”), assonant lines contemplate how taking up residence above could provide an alternate view. When an unexpected avian encounter results in a joyous connection, the event reveals the bearlike protagonist’s loneliness, leading to heartbreak—and the possibility of ground-level community. Displaying acrylic gouache, pastel, and colored pencil techniques, soft and dreamy illustrations evoke the subject’s interactions in warm hues and solitude in cool tones. Leaning into a bloom-where-you’re-planted ending, the tranquil-feeling book’s take on emotional ups and downs provides inspiration for a life lived contentedly. Ages 4–8. (June)

Reviewed on 04/03/2026 | Details & Permalink

Boredom, mosquitoes, and an opportunity for togetherness arrive with a power outage in Bally and Ladi’s busy communal snapshot. Thrust into darkness when the electricity goes out, the intergenerational, light-brown-skinned residents of a house in a tropical setting attempt to adapt: “Knees bump./ Toes stub./ Hands grasp blindly,/ searching, seeking.” The arrival of friends, game and guitar in hand, adds a sense of merrymaking as the companions make shadow animals in candlelight and cool off by eating “frozen treasures scooped out from the freezer.” Outside, “moonbeams bathe/ sticky skin,” and the group appreciate an undiluted view of the stars until the electricity returns. Staccato prose pinpoints the resultant ambivalence: “Emotions mixed./ Feelings tangled./ Darkness is gone.” Appropriately playing with light and shadow, chalky digital drawings center on cozy domestic scenes, and a horizontal spread of the night sky offers a dazzling climax that’s pitch-perfect for this bright-eyed and appreciative tale about embracing the dark. An author’s note concludes. Ages 4–8. (June)

Reviewed on 04/03/2026 | Details & Permalink

Musings about the sky attend a young speaker’s family move “somewhere far,/ somewhere new” in McGhee and Aly’s wistful picture book. “I’m looking up on a/ hot summer night,/ moon and stars/ the only light./ Will they still shine as bright/ once we’re out of sight?” wonders the protagonist while traveling beneath the stars. Upon arriving at “another land, another sky,/ where different clouds/ go floating by,” the speaker discovers that even in a new place there might be the potential for new bonds. A forlorn feeling infuses inquisitive, yearning lines (“Is there someone like me/ who wants to know/ what happens to things that disappear?”), while mixed-media and digitally collaged illustrations capture the story’s emotive elements with sooty shading and thick charcoal-like outlining. It’s a pensive story about weathering change that suggests looking up as a means to finding connection. Ages 3–7. (June)

Reviewed on 04/03/2026 | Details & Permalink