What remains of Nature

Wei’s childhood was much like that of many children growing up in Beijing during the 1990s. As the summer sun stretched long shadows along the narrow alleyways, he would ride his bicycle home from school.

Though the years have faded in memory, nature remains vividly preserved in fragments.

“Every day after school, I would spend twenty minutes watching ants before going home. I would pick up an ant with each hand and watch them fight with each other with their antennae,” he recalled. As he spoke, a quiet smile appeared beneath his glasses.

“There was a patch of mint near my house. These plants were quite rare back in our days – mostly something you saw in advertisements,” he laughed. “I would pick a few leaves and put them in my nose on the way to school.”

“We had a jujube tree in our yard. A bunch of us would make slingshots from twigs and rubber bands and spend hours trying to knock down the fruit. We would all be staring up at the tree, waiting for one to fall.”

The warm memories kept coming.  Yet, nature was not always gentle.

Bordering vast deserts, Beijing was frequently swept by spring sandstorms.  

“When I was a kid, sandstorms were very common. The whole sky would turn yellow. When I rode my bike home, I barely had to pedal; the wind would push me along. When I arrived home, there would be sand in my hair.”

Years later, after moving to Shanghai, another environmental memory would stay with him.

“My most memorable experience was December of 2013. The smog was extremely severe. We all wore masks to work. The smog affected my mood and made me very uncomfortable.”

The contrast was striking: Wei’s childhood memories were inseparable from nature, yet his adult memories were increasingly tied to environmental degradation.

Wei during the interview

Wei works in the automotive industry and has spent much of his career designing combustion engines, electric motors, and automotive technologies. The industry fascinates him, but it also serves as a reminder of how economic development can reshape the environment.

Beijing was not planned for car ownership skyrocketing after the early 2000s. In response, many neighborhoods sacrificed green space to accommodate growing infrastructure demands.

“When I went back years later, many of the trees were gone and had been replaced by parking spaces.” Nostalgia filled his eyes. 

Wei glanced up at the clear sky above the park before looking back down at the baby resting in his lap. There was a mixture of relief and reflection in his expression.

In many ways, today’s children are growing up in much cleaner cities than previous generations. The skies are clearer, the air is cleaner, and environmental awareness is greater than ever before.

Yet something else seems to be fading: the small, unstructured interactions with nature that once filled childhood afternoons – watching ants, smelling mint leaves, gathering fruit.

When asked what he hoped for his child, he said, “I hope my child will love nature, and I hope he can grow up in a safe and healthy environment.”

For Wei, environmental change is a story of memory, loss, progress, and hope – one that stretches from the dusty skies of his childhood to the future he imagines for the next generation.