"If you were the moon, what would you do? You'd spin like a twilight ballerina and play dodgeball with space rocks! Find out more in this lyrical list poem accompanied by stunning illustrations."--

The beaver flood has finally frozen perfect ice, without a bump or a ripple. For the kids in town, it s Christmas in November. They wait, impatiently, for the right moment. Finally, it arrives: the full moon. They huff and puff through logging trails, farms, back roads and tamarack swamps, the powdery snow soaking pant legs and boots, till they see it their perfect ice, waiting. And the game is on.