A redheaded pixie takes to the woods with her father in hopes of seeing cavemen and other wild things.
“All Dad does is work,” says Tora, the pint-sized narrator. “He is a very boring father.” Gee, what does a guy have to do to cop a break? Take his wee one to the forest, for a start; in the green gloaming of the trees live great and fearful creatures, which are just Tora’s cup of tea. And if it turns out that their forest has more ants, squirrels and woodpeckers than hyenas and Bigfeet, then it is time for a little blue-sky thinking: That root is a boa constrictor (or maybe an anaconda), that hump of rocks is a crash of hippos, and that copse of birch trees is a tower of giraffes. (In the book, the congregation of giraffes is referred to as a flock, which may have something to do with the book having been originally written in Swedish.) All it takes is looking the right way, Tora tells her father, who is caught on his GPS or cellphone once too often. The artwork is deft and atmospheric, with a delicacy that lets the creative imagination loose. When it comes time for the father to show his stuff, he doesn’t let Tora down, boring as he is, with a water dragon. A water dragon “only eats fish fingers,” he assures her.
An evocative nod to the power of lateral thinking and flights of fancy. (Picture book. 4-8)