Cadnum (Edge, p. 797, etc.), known for his complex and challenging novels, proves equally adept at picture-book length in this quietly ruminative story about moving. A young narrator watches his old neighborhood recede through the rear window of his family's car, then explores his new house and yard, finding evidence of past residents, and making new friends. Using a palette of muted browns and greens, Johnson and Fancher capture the boy's sadness in a series of shadowed portraits and still lifes, most of which are canted one way or another to reflect his sense of dislocation--""All night I keep waking, and think: I know where I am. Because each time, I have forgotten."" Unusually, for a book on this topic, his parents' feelings also come through, in his mother's quietness and his father's forced cheer. He finds comfort, finally, in the sound of his mother singing to herself as she sets up bookshelves, and the thought that fish will soon be swimming again in their aquarium. Rather than attempting to jolly young readers through a common childhood experience, the story explores the emotional landscape with restraint and respect.