Laura Bontje’s is a breathtaking picture book that celebrates the magic of nature, the patience of discovery, and the deep bonds between generations. Through the eyes of young Annie, readers embark on a journey of wonder, waiting, and the eventual joy of witnessing the emergence of cicadas—a phenomenon that ties her to the past and future in a beautifully cyclical way.
A Story That Sings Through Time
Annie, a budding insect enthusiast, is captivated by the mysterious cicadas that only emerge every seventeen years. As she eagerly anticipates their arrival, she is joined by her great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother—each sharing their own childhood memories of waiting for the cicadas to sing. This intergenerational storytelling adds a rich layer to the narrative, reminding readers that nature’s rhythms connect us across time.
The Beauty of Patience and Discovery
Bontje’s lyrical prose gently guides young readers through the cicada life cycle, weaving scientific wonder with emotional depth. Annie’s frustration at waiting mirrors the impatience we all feel when longing for something magical to happen. But as she learns, some things—like the cicadas’ song and the arrival of a new sibling—are worth the wait.
Stunning Illustrations That Bring Nature to Life
Sarah Whang’s illustrations are nothing short of mesmerizing. With soft textures and warm tones, she captures the essence of childhood curiosity and the quiet beauty of nature. The inclusion of family photographs within the artwork adds a nostalgic touch, reinforcing the theme of time’s passage and the stories we carry forward.
When the Air Sang is more than just a book about cicadas—it’s a celebration of patience, family, and the wonders of the natural world. Perfect for young entomologists and dreamers alike, this story reminds us that curiosity never fades, and some melodies—like the cicadas’ song—are worth waiting for.
Until next time…Happy Parenting!
~ Momma Braga
*Please note that this book was provided in exchange of an honest review. All opinions expressed are our own.
