Erin Stead understands the power of judiciously applied color and uses repeated dollops…to draw the reader's eye across each double-page panorama…As seeds sprout into plants, so these simple words grow through each carefully detailed scene into a tale filled with the joy of being alive.
—The Washington Post

Green is what the bespectacled boy in Julie Fogliano's 'And Then It's Spring' eagerly hopes to see as he waits for seeds he has planted to sprout from the brown earth. Did birds eat the seeds? Did bears trample them? In Erin E. Stead's finely drawn illustrations, we see the imagined bears lounging in the seedbeds with a sign that reads: 'Please do not stomp here—there are seeds and they are trying.'” —The Wall Street Journal

“This seemingly real-time experience of getting to green is a droll, wistful ode to the stamina behind wanting, will, and perseverance.” —School Library Journal, Starred

“In an understated and intimate partnership, Fogliano and Stead conjure late winter doldrums and the relief of spring's arrival, well worth the wait.” —Publishers Weekly, Starred

“This sweet seedling will undoubtedly take root and thrive. ” —Kirkus, Starred

“Fogliano's poetic yet grounded narrative is reminiscent of Charlotte Zolotow's picture-book texts in its understatement and straightforward, childlike observations…As for the illustrations, there's no sophomore slump for Stead: her second book is even better than her 2011 Caldecott winner, A Sick Day for Amos McGee (rev. 5/10).” —Horn Book Magazine, Starred

“A first-time author and the Caldecott Award-winning illustrator of A Sick Day for Amos McGee (2011) team up in this beautiful ode to a patient gardener.” —Booklist, Starred

“…a humble yet miraculous world…” —BCCB

A boy plants seeds in late winter's brown, barren earth and vigilantly watches for green sprouts alongside his companions (a dog, turtle, rabbit and bird). Rambling narration, elasticized with many ands, thats, commas and a boy's earnest concerns for his seeds, runs on, leaving readers waiting and waiting and waiting--just like the child gardener. The boy's oversized glasses, his tilted, blank face (we never see his eyes) and tiny chin melt hearts instantly. Stead wisely withholds his features, letting Fogliano's babbling stream of small worries and staggeringly sharp imaginings flesh him out. Silly bears might tread on the plantings, unaware of signs that read "please do not stomp here-- / there are seeds / and they are trying." Germinating seeds issue "a greenish hum / that you can only hear / if you put your ear to the ground / and close your eyes." This elaborate inner world and darling voice reverberate in muted wood-block prints and empathetic pencil illustrations as well, its timbre and tone unchanged. Delicate lines run like fine veins, describing animals, trees, plants and fences with intricate and intentional specificity. Sizable, scalloped cloud formations, whose flat panes of white widen double-page horizons, offset both the scrupulous line-work and abundant regions of brown and blue. Their simplicity ventilates these pictures, allowing readers to note amusing secondary animal activities in the dirt. Many treasures lie buried within this endearing story, in which humor and anxious anticipation sprout alongside one another. This sweet seedling will undoubtedly take root and thrive. (Picture book. 3-8)