THE TREE THAT WILL BE

A Spanish import lauds the importance of trees.

A youngster notices a tree sprouting in a park and imagines all the possibilities of what the tree may become. Some of the lyrical thoughts are logical: “Perhaps a sturdy hammock / with a backrest strong and deep, / where I’ll lie down to read stories / before I fall asleep.” These words are accompanied by an illustration of the child settling into a cozy, curved nook between the branches. Others are more fanciful. After the speculation that “maybe it will be a comb / made entirely of wood, / and shape the clouds as they pass / as a gentle stylist should,” the limbs create whales and giraffes as the clouds wisp through. The tree is cast in many scenarios as both a refuge and a playful object. It stands tall on all spreads, with fiery red leaves mixing with musical notes, or spindly branches reaching toward a luminous moon. The translation holds the gentle whimsy close and sets the tone for this quiet musing on nature’s incredible power. The main protagonist has pale skin and blond hair, but friends of all skin tones join.

An interwoven journey of respect for both the arboreal world and soaring imagination.