Whenever I spread marmalade (橘子酱), I am reminded of my mother, a five-foot-tall angel who even befriended a skunk (臭鼬).

One day, while she was busy picking beans in the backyard, she came across a skunk no more than a meter away. The skunk’s embarrassment was evident as he had undoubtedly been rummaging (乱翻) through the garbage. He still had a marmalade jar stuck on his nose. Mom took pity on him. Instead of worrying the creature would spray something smelly all over her and the beans, she smiled compassionately at the little thing and extended a helping hand. Kneeling on the ground, she inched across the grass, reached out, and twisted the jar—very carefully.

The jar slipped off. The skunk nodded a thank-you before slipping away into the woods at the back of the garden. Obviously, there was no spraying incident, thanks to my remarkable mother. She repeated this tale numerous times, always calling the skunk Marmalade. However, that was not the end of the story. Three summers later, when I was about twelve, another encounter occurred.

It was a rainy morning, and both my mother and father had gone to work. My friend Rob came over to play, and we decided to run the electric train in my room. Suddenly, a scratching sound emerged from the attic (阁楼). Rob assumed that it might be some kind of animal. Curiosity got the better of us, and we ventured towards the source of the sound.

I cautiously opened the attic door in the hall. The noise ceased abruptly. I climbed up the stairs, Rob following my lead. There behind the toy box near the chimney stood the animal—black with a distinct white stripe down his back. Was he scared and trembling? I believe so, at least that’s what I remember. Instinctively, I retreated, fearing the potential spray or bites from the creature. “Hey, Rob,” I whispered urgently, “It’s a skunk. Let’s go to the kitchen and figure out a way to get him out of here.”

In the cupboard, several paper cups and a jar of marmalade caught our sight.

Rob and I followed the skunk as he ate his way down the stairs.

In an age of rapidly growing urbanization, rooftop farming has emerged as a sustainable response     1     the challenge of creating green space in cities. This innovative practice transforms rooftops into mini farms, where vegetables, fruits, and even flowers     2     (plant), providing local residents with fresh produce and adding a touch of nature to urban environments.

Rooftop farming, also     3     (refer) to as vertical agriculture, is more than just a trend; it’s a step towards environmental conservation. Green roofs with vegetation help to absorb sunlight and release moisture, cooling the air and reducing the demand for air conditioning,     4     in turn lessens energy     5     (consume) and carbon emission. Meanwhile, rooftop farms serve as educational platforms,     6     (teach) city dwellers about sustainable agriculture practices and the importance of locally     7     (source) food.

As urban populations continue to grow, rooftop farming fosters community engagement     8     promotes healthier lifestyles by providing access to fresh and organic produce. When we look towards     9     future where environmental consciousness and sustainable practices become increasingly vital, rooftop farming stands as a testament to our ability to cultivate more than just food—we cultivate hope for a     10     (green) and more resilient world.

4 . Students at the Calhoun School in New York City have much more than a roof over their heads. They have a rooftop garden, with lush grass, colorful flowers and fragrant herbs. “Green roofs” are sprouting up all over, from schools to city skyscrapers. And roofs aren’t the only things going green. Architects are finding all sorts of new ways to build buildings that are easier on the environment. These schools, homes, and offices are called “green buildings”.

Normally it takes a lot of energy to run appliances. Too often, that energy comes from burning fossil fuels. So green buildings are designed to do all these things with much less energy. An energy-smart building starts with thick walls. A layer of insulation (隔热材料) traps air to stop heat from passing through. That keeps heat inside in the winter, and keeps heat outside in the summer. This saves energy for heating and cooling.

Heat pumps are another power-saving way to stay comfortable. A ground heat pump moves heat through pipes that run through the ground next to the building. A few feet under the ground, the temperature stays around 10℃ all year round. Water flowing around the pipes helps heat the building in winter and cool it in summer.

Another way to build green is to use recycled materials. That saves the cost and pollution of manufacturing something new. In the Chicago Center for Green Technology, the ceiling tiles (瓷砖) are made of pressed newspaper. The bathroom floors are tiled with recycled glass, and the stall walls are recycled plastic. Builders have found many creative ways to re-use old materials.

As more people become concerned about climate change, more buildings are going green. Green buildings produce less of the gases that warm the planet. City planners like green buildings because they save money. And they are healthier for the people who work and live inside. But you don’t need to build a whole new building. Simple changes like shading windows and planting trees can make any home greener—and a better Earth home for us all.

There once was a stray dog (流浪狗) named Rufus who was the most amazing dog on Kumquat Street. He could hear a ladybug blowing its nose. He could see a pill bug eating a black licorice candy at midnight. Rufus could even smell a caterpillar that hadn’t washed its feet.

You would think that Rufus, being so amazing, was also happy. But he wasn’t. You see, there was one thing that kept Rufus from being adopted by his favorite human. And that was ...Rufus barked backward. Here’s what he sounded like: “Wob-wow! Wob-wow! Fra-fra-fra! Krab-krab!”

Rufus could stand being laughed at by every squirrel and cat in the neighborhood. What he couldn't stand was that his bark kept him from living with Janie Johnson.

Janie never laughed at Rufus when he barked. More than anything else, Rufus wanted to be her pet. He wanted to play catch in her yard every day and sleep at the foot of her bed each night.

But Janie’s father, Mr. Johnson, wouldn’t hear of it. “What? A dog that barks backward? Wed be the laughingstocks of Kumquat Street! we Johnsons didn't get where we are today by adopting dogs that bark backward. No, Janie. It’s out of the question.”

“I’m sorry,” Janie told Rufus one morning as they sat on her front porch. “I keep telling Daddy how great you are. He just won’t listen.”

“Krab-krab!” said Rufus.

“Yes, sometimes he is bad-tempered,” said Janie “I’ll keep trying, though. Don’t worry.”

But Rufus did worry. That evening he talked it over with his friend Bill Bulldog. “I don’t think Mr Johnson will ever like me,” Rufus said. “As long as I bark backward, he’ll never let me live in his home.”

“Have you tried treatment?” asked Bill.

Rufus said, “I’ve tried everything. Nothing helps. It’s just the way I bark.”

“You’re a great dog Roof. Anyone can see that,” said Bill. “It just takes some humans longer to figure it out, that’s all. Hey, want to go with me to Succotash Street? I’ve heard that their garbage is fantastic.”

Rufus yawned. “No, thanks,” he said. “I’ll take a nap.”

When Rufus woke up, it was late afternoon. As he was lying there, his sharp ears heard Mr. Johnson saying, “It’s almost suppertime. ls Janie still roller-skating? We Johnsons didn’t get where we are today by being late for supper.”

Rufus ran down Kumquat Street to look for Janie.

At the sight of Janie and Rufus, Mr. Johnson ran up.

One of the most endangered animals in the world is the Siberian tiger,     1     (know) as the Northeast Tiger in China. There are less than 500 of these beautiful animals still living in the wild. The Siberian tiger is the largest of all tigers.     2     adult male can grow up to 3.3 meters in     3     (long) and weigh as much as 300 kilograms.

Long ago, Siberian tigers were all over Northeast Asia and Russian Far East.     4    , today they are found mainly along the Chinese-Russian border and     5     (possible) in North Korea. The main reason for their decrease in numbers is the disappearance of their natural habitat. Fortunately, steps     6     (take) to save this magnificent creature in recent years and as a consequence numbers are     7     the rise.

There is also a fairly large population of Siberian tigers in zoos, some of     8     are expected to be reintroduced to the wild. Of course, they would need to learn how to hunt and take care of     9     (they), and this is easier said than done. Another big issue is the problem of space. At present, there just is not enough     10     (spoil) forest available to support reintroducing many Siberian tigers into the wild.

9 . Growing up on a mountain farm in Tyrol, Fritz enjoyed watching how cows and horses interacted with each other more freely, once they’d been led out of the barn and into pasture. It was what he observed in his boyhood that took root in his pursuit of becoming a biologist. After he finished his study at university. Fritz landed work at Austria’s Konrad Lorenz Research Center, raising raven chicks by hand and teaching graylag geese how to open boxes as he pursued his PhD. Working this closely with free-living animals was exactly what he’d dreamed of as a boy.

In 1997, a zoo gave the research center its first northern bald ibis chicks (隐鹮) Nowhere near as teachable as geese—and not even close to super intelligent ravens—the ibises frustrated most of the scientists. But Fritz was fascinated. He devoted himself to taking care of them. After the ibises were first released back into the wild more than 20 years ago, Fritz learned that spending generations in zoo hadn’t reduced their drive to migrate (迁徙), though it did leave them geographically uninformed. In their search for “south”, some ended up in Russia. What the ibises needed, Fritz thought, was a guide.

Fritz decided he would teach the birds a new, safer migration route by guiding them himself in a tiny aircraft. And he was confident he could succeed in this daring, unconventional plan—because he had done it before. “Around that time, the movie ‘Fly Away Home’ was a huge hit with us biologists,” Fritz says. When he announced that he’d do the same with the ibises, he was initially laughed at. But Fritz didn’t give up. He modified an ultralight aircraft so it would travel at speeds slow enough for his winged students to keep up. He had been his young pupils’ only provider of food, love and hugs since they were just a few days old, and the ibises eagerly followed their teacher, who just happened to pilot a fairly noisy machine.

In 2004, three years after some initially bumpy (颠簸的) experiments, Fritz led the first batch of birds from Austria to Italy, and has since led 15 such migrations. Over that time, he has rewilded 277 young ibises, many of which then started to pass the route on to their own young.