Here’s a book that is also a puzzle, an optical illusion, and a little bit toy-like all at once. Here’s what I mean.
So, then, a birdhouse: one small circle, two parallelograms, and a die-cut triangle.
Or walls and a roof and a string, of course. Isn’t that what shapes are? Real, living, breathing things?
But then wind blows and the sky rumbles, and . . .
This book isn’t only clever cuts and shapes transforming into magic. It’s also a gentle arc of a pulsing spring. An apple, a reach, a bite, a worm.
A robin, a song, a home, a storm.
A mess, a basket, a watch, a wait.
A winter, a spring.