A nest of newborn birds. [Photo by Zou Hong/China Daily]

Cycle of life

Far away from the rushed cacophony of the city, the cycle of life here is so tangibly felt and honored by all who call it home.

At one poignant moment of my too-short visit I and my group almost literally stumbled upon a nest of newborn birds, whose maker had ingeniously built it with twigs barely hidden in the grass on the ground. A mother seemed to have worked out that sometimes it is in the most conspicuous place that safety lies.

The birds were so heartbreakingly young that they were devoid of feathers, with only pink, transparent skin as a covering. Their eyes firmly closed and mouths agape, they called incessantly for their mother, which, a forester said, must not be far away, in fact probably standing on a tree branch overlooking us.

"She comes down every half hour to feed her chicks," he said.