A little boy muses on the pleasures of being outdoors alone -- in a remake of of umpteen vapid picture-book evocations. The text ranges from the plain and apt (""I feel the sun's heat all over me"") to the plainly conventional (""I think of favorite things I've done); from the nicely suggestive (""When it's just me, I ask myself questions I can't answer"") to the insistently meaningful (""When l'm alone, I look at myself inside and out. No one looks just like me or thinks just like I do""). Henkes paints with a delicate palette -- the coloring is the most distinctive thing about the book -- and the illustrations have a degree of feeling. But the text is simply a wash-out.