Gathering up “our buckets, trowels, / banjoes, blankets, books, and towels,” a family of bats flits out to the beach for a moonlit picnic of “yummy treats”—“Beetles, ants, and milkweed bugs, / crickets, moths, and pickled slugs. / Damselflies, or salted ’skeeters— / no room here for picky eaters!” Aside from the deliciously macabre menu, it’s not too different from a human outing; in Lies’s lambent, exactly detailed paintings, bats with an appealingly mouse-like look cavort happily through the waves, play volleyball and other games or snuggle into comfy laps around a glowing campfire as the grownups chat amiably. As a purpling sky to the east signals that it’s time to clean up, they “flutter homeward, drained and weary,” as “small bats doze off, tired and teary.” Perfect for sharing with younglings of the wingless sort, when it’s time for them to do the same. (Picture book. 5-7)
