All falling asleep.
Pretty boring book. The pictures are very quaintly 1950s. A man walking a dachshund, wearing a plaid jacket, with a cigar between his two fingers makes me think of Disney cartoons from that era. Everything just looks precious.
It's basically a long prose poem with a sentence or two on each page about various things that fall, most of which are natural like rain and shadows. There's really not much to it, just a list of things that fall. The premise itself isn't very interesting. It's not bad, it's just dated.