TOO MUCH STUFF!

Two magpies try to fit everything but the kitchen sink into their nest.

Magpies Meg and Ash are enthusiastic homemakers and aspiring parents. In the tallest tree, they build a nest from classic materials: mud, grass, and sticks. “Then lastly, to keep it all cozy and clean, / they lined the whole thing with an old magazine.” Uh-oh! The magazine’s full of ads—quaint, old-fashioned ads that readers can peruse up-close on the endpapers—and a seed is planted. Meg and Ash don’t make any purchases (there’s no commerce in this animal world), but suddenly, all objects strike them as shiny and irresistible. Can the nest fit cuckoo clocks and socks? A bucket, a mop, a broom? Human-sized bicycles and an entire car? The nested accumulation eventually crashes down, causing a frantic search for the missing magpie eggs. The whole animal community (foxes, rabbits, bugs, more birds) pitches in. Gravett’s virtuosity at animal facial expressions is in top form, and her crisp, fine lines bring bright detail. Brilliant use of composition and white space showcases the magpies’ unbridled collecting but feels visually fascinating rather than busy. Much of the verse satisfies—Meg and Ash collect “a teddy abandoned by a bin, / the bin, and EVERYTHING within”— though the scansion sometimes slips: “The shiny bucket, and the lights / came clattering down from the heights.”

Cheerful, dear, and funny—with a comforting conclusion.