"I've struggled for a long time trying to find the words to adequately recommend this one. I'm still not convinced I have. But I couldn't hold off any longer. I didn't want to deprive you of the heightened chance to stumble across it and experience the sheer, breathtaking beauty that is this book. And that’s what I keep coming back to, over the months of contemplating what makes it so wonderful. I am a sucker for poetic prose, and Ray Bradbury is a master. His writing in Dandelion Wine breaks my heart the same way the city of Venice does: it’s so beautiful it hurts. I think I barely breathed for the entire 24 hours I spent in Venice for fear of somehow dispelling the marvelous dream realized all around me. Reading Dandelion Wine is like that. The first breath I drew after finishing the last sentence felt like the first breath I’d drawn all day. With so much beauty—lyrical, nostalgic, utterly captivating—who needs air?"
The summer of '28 was a vintage season for a growing boy. A summer of green apple trees, mowed lawns, and new sneakers. Of half-burnt firecrackers, of gathering dandelions, of Grandma's belly-busting dinner. It was a summer of sorrows and marvels and gold-fuzzed bees. A magical, timeless summer in the life of a twelve-year-old boy named Douglas Spaulding--remembered forever by the incomparable Ray Bradbury.