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Environment, What Does It Mean to Me ?

Kang Hao
As I open my photo album, two pictures, one old. one new. appear before my eyes. The background of the old one shows a simple, large and quiet courtyard. A grape trellis is visible, as are pots of flowers. It seems peaceful. The new one's background shows some fine factory buildings and towering chimneys, all neat and imposing.
The old photo was taken when I was very small. The little courtyard was in fact my home.
My home was in a small town in the Yangtze Valley. Regarding the scenery, it was typical of the area south of the river. A limpid stream meandered quietly from far away through the centre of the town, washing away all the dust and then silently flowing on. Flanking the stream were neat, small courtyards around which grew flowers, tufts of grass and high trees, a paradise for birds and singing cicadas. The fragrance of flow era. the chirping of birds and the gurgling clear waler added much charm to this quiet little town.
My home, situated tn a corner of the town, was particularly tranquil. In our courtyard. grapes climbed the trellis. under which stood rows of
potted plants and flowers. The sweet smell of the flowers and the refreshing grapes made one intoxicated; emerald J'rapes and pink roses de-Ighted one's eyes. In the evenings sometimes. I would sit close to my father and listen to his fascinating stories. How we enjoyed ourselves! I took all this for granted and had never considered what it would mean to me and to all the people living in the little town if it should one day disappear.
The new photo was taken when I was a boy. The factory building seen in it was erected right on the spot of my old courtyard.
Several years ago. when I was no longer a naughty boy but a youth beginning to understand the world, the roar from the huge machines of the modern industry broke the si-lence of our-small town. As tall factory buildings and a forest of chimneys appeared, our little town, which was so small that it was not even marked on a map drawn on a scale of ten thousand to one, became well known for its huge iron and steel works.
I observed ail those changes with curiosity. When we moved into our new living quarters, we felt feiuctant to leave our
little courtyard. But as soon as 1 saw the new buildings I was delighted, in comparison with those courtyards tn the small town, the rows of apartment buildings looked more imposing. I went to the balcony and looked out at the old town which had changed beyond recognition. The low houses had been pulled down and new factories were being erected one after another. Instead of tall trees were towering chimneys which made one dizzy to look at. The kitchen smoke of the town appeared fine and weak compared with the belching dark smoke from factory chimneys. The chirping of the birds was drowned by the roar of the machinery. The slow flow of the stream could never match the boiling molten steel. Those changes excited and inspired me.
The machines roared, chimneys emitted smoke, and the factories turned out their products. But they also produced waste, which brought worry and uneasiness to the people living around. Flowers and grass were polluted, the stream water was no longer clear. The fragrance of blossoms was diluted by smoke; birds chirping was drowned by noise. Every household was enveloped In dust an smoke.
Smoke and dust made my ailing father even more emaciated. Loud noises irritated and depressed him. He coughed more and more, and 1 never again heard the clear voice in which he used to tell me stories. I myself could not get used to all these changes. I wondered, if we did nothing about this smoke, dust and noise, what would happen to me. to the people and our posterity.
Gazing al the dark smoke in the sky. I remembered the talc of a fisherman in The Arabian Nights that my father had tokl me. A strange idea occurred Io me. Those chimneys looked Just like the magic bottle mentioned in the tale could subdue the monster. I would make the monster hand over the fortune it has hidden so as to benefit the people. Then. I would^ake a new photo of the same spot. In the new picture, the fine factory buildings arc set against coloured clouds: light smoke flows from towering chimneys. Green trees and grass add more beauty to the factories. Thick foliage dulls noise. Lawns absorb the dust. There is fragrance In the air: the birds sing In the green trees. An environment like this is surely better and more beautiful than the one I saw as a small child.