Anne here, and no, you can relax — I'm not talking about a particularly mushy romance. While a lot of readers are recovering from Thanksgiving celebrations, I'm thinking about beloved children's books — specifically books set in nature.
When I was a child growing up in Australia, most of the children's stories I knew came from other countries — from England and Europe and other lands — particularly English classics. I've blogged before about my love of AA Milne's tales of Winne the Pooh. And I loved Enid Blyton's tales of Cherry Tree Farm (and others) where I learned about red squirrels and Brock the badger and slow worms and many more wild animals — none of which I'd ever seen.
This was another favorite story book, a fat volume called Once Long Ago, containing seventy wonderful stories from almost as many lands. I still own it, but the dust jacket is in tatters. I thrilled to the story of Baba Yaga, loved the Native American tale of the Boy and the Wolves, the Chinese tale of the Fairy Wife -- and many more.