One Potato Review

Same woods, different agendas. Dad’s kind of persnickety: “I’m not in stump mood,” he grumbles when the boy who is the narrator here tries to show him the remains of an old tree. This will quicken the hearts of young naturalists probably who may recognize themselves exploring the woods with a glass Mason jar, but it’s also the clear-eyed portrait of a parent so distracted by his sense of mission he forgets to include his son. He’s a painter apparently (this seems like a hobby more than a job) so this author gets some mileage from the difference between capturing nature and capturing it. The ending is pretty much announced in the title, although it is stumbled upon – believably – and you get the feeling they’re going to need to find this place again.