The award-winning mother and her son once again join forces for a picture book. But whereas Peeny Butter Fudge (2009) was spread with warmth and humor, this presents a wildly peculiar fable on belonging—sort of. Little Cloud drifts away from the stormy mass that is bent on earthly destruction. She then discovers a love for the “[p]urple mountains with scarves of snow” that she sees below and yearns to skip and play thereon. She is scooped up by Lady Wind, who flies with her through a storm until morning breaks, and Little Cloud sees the pearly dew, a rainbow and mist. Blissfully she proclaims that “I am me and all the things I dreamed of.” Qualls’s paintings feature a blue-haired Little Cloud with very red lips. Images float by in swirls and swoops, valiantly trying to make sense of the text. All in all, once past the ’60s love-in mentality, the story seems to be an homage to Aeolian spirits that reworks the Aesop fable, “A Bundle of Sticks.” But can farmers depend on gentle mists to water their fields? Doubtful. (Picture book. 4-8)
