Insect Journal - (World Famous Literature Master Guide Edition)

Author: (French) Fabre / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-07-01
Features: The Preface to "My Deserted Garden" Before we embark on our journey of insect exploration, let's take a closer look at Fabre's Deserted Garden and learn how he made friends with insects. When I was very, very young, I already had a sense of closeness to things in nature. If you think my love for observing plants and insects was inherited from my ancestors, that would be a joke. Because, my ancestors knew and cared about nothing but the cows and sheep they raised. Among my grandparents, only one person had ever flipped through a book, and even he found the spelling of letters unreliable in my eyes. As for any specialized training I may have received, that's even more out of the question. I had no teachers or guides from a young age, and there were often not enough books to read. However, I just kept moving toward a goal before me—the goal of adding a few pages of my insights into insects to the history of insects someday. Looking back, many years ago, when I was still a child who didn't understand much, I had just learned to recognize letters, yet I still feel very proud of the courage and determination I had back then in my first attempts at learning. I remember very clearly one experience: the time I went in search of a bird's nest and the time I went collecting wild mushrooms. The joy I felt then still makes it hard for me to forget even today. I remember one day when I went climbing a mountain very close to my home. At the top of this mountain, there was a forest that had long interested me. From my small window at home, I could see these trees standing toward the sky, swaying in the wind, bending in the snow. I had long wanted to have the chance to run to that forest and take a look. This time, the climb took a long time, and my legs were short, so I moved very slowly. The grassy slope was very steep, like a roof. Suddenly, at my feet, I discovered a very cute little bird. I guessed that this little bird must have flown down from the big stone where it was hiding. In no time, I found the nest of this bird. The nest was made of dry grass and feathers, and inside it were arranged six eggs. These eggs had beautiful pure blue color and were very shiny. This was the first time I found a bird's nest, and it was one of the many joys the birds brought me. I was overjoyed, so I lay on the grass and observed it very seriously. At that moment, the mother bird was flying anxiously back and forth on the stone and chirping "Tack! Tack!" as if showing great unease. I was still too young at that time to understand why she was so distressed. In my heart, I came up with a plan. First, I took back one of the blue eggs as a souvenir. Then, in two weeks, I would return when the little birds couldn’t fly yet and take them away. I was lucky. When I placed the blue egg on the moss and carefully walked home, I happened to meet a pastor. He said, "Ah! An egg of a Saxicola! Where did you find this egg?" I told him the whole story of finding the egg, and said, "I plan to go back and take the rest of the eggs, but only when the little birds have just grown feathers." "Oh, don’t do that!" the pastor exclaimed, "You can’t be so cruel to snatch the children of that poor mother bird. Now, be a good child and promise me you’ll never touch that nest again." From this conversation, I learned two things. First, stealing bird eggs is cruel. Second, birds and animals, like humans, have their own names. So I asked myself, "What are the names of my many friends in the forest and on the grass? What does 'Saxicola' mean?" Several years later, I learned that 'Saxicola' means a dweller among rocks, and the bird that lays blue eggs is called a stonechat. P1-2