Twelve years ago, Danny called me from a dark, damp subway station. “A baby!” he shouted. “Get down here, and flag down a police car or something.” By nature, Danny is a remarkably calm person, so when I felt his heart pounding through the phone line, I ran.

    When I got to the subway station, Danny was holding a light-brown-skinned baby, about a day old. The baby had been wrapped in an oversize black sweatshirt and left on the ground in a corner behind the gate.

    Three months later, Danny appeared in family court to give an account of finding the baby. Suddenly, the judge asked, “Would you be interested in adopting this baby?” The question stunned everyone in the courtroom, except Danny, who answered, simply, “Yes.”

    “But I know it's not that easy,” he said.

    “Well, it can be,” assured the judge before barking out orders to allow me to be a parent-to-be.

    My first reaction, when I heard, went something like: “Are you crazy? How could you say yes without consulting me?”

    In three years as a couple, we had never discussed adopting a child. I was an ambitious playwright working as a part-time word processor. Danny was a respected yet wildly underpaid social worker. We had a roommate, who slept in our living room, to help pay the rent.

    We knew how many challenges couples usually faced when they wanted to adopt. And while Danny had patience and selflessness, I didn't know how to change a diaper(尿布), let alone nurse a child. I didn't trust the system and was sure there would be obstacles. Also, I couldn't handle parenthood. So I promised myself I wouldn't get attached.

    The caretaker held him and then placed him in my arms. But when the baby stared up at me, with all the innocence and hope he represented, I, like Danny, was completely hooked.

    The organic food has gained a lot of [popularity as they are being considered as healthier and tastier.  A fair number of people advocate a large-scale shift to organic farming from conventional agriculture. But this might not seem well-founded.

    Since the mid-19^th century, conventional industrial agriculture has become incredibly efficient on a simple land to food basis. Conventional farming gets more and more crop per square foot of land, which can mean less wilderness needs to be transformed to farmland.

    To make farming more efficient, conventional agriculture uses a significant amount of synthetic fertilizer（合成肥料）each year, and all that nitrogen（氮）enables much faster plant growth. However, the cost is paid in vast polluted dead zones at the months of many of the world's rivers, because much of the nitrogen ends up running off the soil and into the oceans. This also makes conventional farming one of the major threats to the environment.

To weaken the environmental impact of agriculture, improve soil quality as well as produce healthier foods, some farmers have turned to organic farming. Environmentalists have also welcomed organic food as better for the planet than the food produced by agricultural corporations. Organic practices — refusing artificial fertilizers and chemical pesticides –are considered far more sustainable. Sales of organic food rose 7.7% in 2010, up to $26.7 billion—and people are making those purchases for their moral senses as much as their tongues.

    Yet a new meta-analysis in Nature does the math and comes to a hard conclusion: organic farming produces 25% fewer crops on average than conventional agriculture.

    In the Nature analysis, scientists performed an analysis of 66 studies comparing conventional and organic methods across 34 different crop species, from fruits to grains. They found that organic farming delivered a lower output for every crop type, though the difference varied widely. For crops like fruit trees, organic trailed（落后于）conventional agriculture by just 5%. Yet for major grain crops and vegetables – all of which provide the world's main calories – conventional agriculture outperformed organics by more than 25%.

    What that means is that while organic farming may be more sustainable than conventional agriculture, there are trade-offs（此消彼长）with each. So an ideal global agriculture system may borrow the best from both systems rather than upholding merely organic or conventional practices.

    Every pet owner loves his pet. There is no argument here.

    But when we asked our readers whether they would clone their beloved animals, the responses were split almost down the middle. Of the 228 readers who answered it, 108 would lone, 111 would not and nine weighed each side without offering an opinion.

    Clearly, from readers' response, this is an issue that reaches deeply into both the joy and eventual sadness of owning a pet. It speaks, as well, to people's widely differing expectations over the developing scientific procedure.

    Most of the respondents who favored the idea strongly believed it would produce at least a close copy of the original; many felt the process would actually return an exact copy. Those on the other side, however, held little hope a clone could never truly recreate a pet, many simply didn't wish to go against the natural law of life and death.

    Both sides expressed equal love for their animals. More than a few respondents owned “the t dog/cat in the World”. They thought of their pets as their “best friend”, ''a member of the family,” “the light of my life.” They told moving stories of pets' heroism, intelligence and selfless devotion.

Little wonders the loss is so disturbing—and the cloning so attractive. “People become very lose to their animals, and the loss can be just as hard to bear as when a friend or family member dies,” says Gary Kowalski, author of Goodbye, Friend: Healing Wisdom for Anyone Who Has Ever Lost a Pet. “For me, cloning feels like an attempt to turn death away... It's understandable. Death is always painful. It's difficult to deal with. It's hard to accept.”

    But would cloning reduce the blow? This question seemed to be at the heart of this problem.

The Trip to Alishan in Taiwan

    It was the fourth day of our trip to Taiwan, bright but cold. After a good breakfast we put on our jackets and gloves, pulled on our hats and got into a car. We travelled for about two hours, up, and up, and up the mountain road.

    We finally arrived at the top of the mountain. It was Christmas Day. So imagine my joy to see icicles(冰柱)hanging form branches and the whiteness of the scenery. Indeed, it was my first Christmas in the northern hemisphere(半球)and, guess what? It even started snowing too. How amazingly exciting for me to have Christmas in my grandmother's hometown, and to experience icicles and snow. Alishan is really beautiful, especially seen form this dizzy height. After Sun parked the car, we got out and looked down through the trees. It hadn't snowed hard enough so there was no snow on the ground, just loads of pine needles. There was a most wonderful smell of pine sap(松液)drifting up to us form the ground. It was very quiet, except for the twittering of birds, and the odd car passing along the road. Quietness in Taiwan is something to treasure.

    Over the road was a small stall so we went over to it. They were selling some drink steaming hot in paper cups, too hot to hold immediately. We jumped around to get warm. There was a cool wind blowing up the side of the mountain, and the clouds above us were moving along quickly. I could imagine there was quite a strong wind blowing up there, so I was glad we were down on the ground! The drink cooled down fairly rapidly. I picked up my share and, wow, what a lovely smell was coming from it. It was the smell of ginger(姜).I took a sip. How delicious, and so this was ginger tea, which I had never tried before. It warmed my body so quickly that I could feel the heat travel right down to my fingers and to my toes. This was very good stuff. And then it was time to leave as we were going down to Hualian to attend a Buddha bi-bi, eat hot pot, and drink some Shaoxing rice wine.

    Nobel prize-winners, legendary (传奇的) authors, and famous scientists — you might think all these people were born to be creative. However, that's not always the case.

    While well-known figures like Pablo Picasso and Albert Einstein did their most significant (重要的) work in their youth, famous American poet Robert Frost and English-born natural scientist Charles Darwin were known as "late bloomers" – people whose talents were not noticeable until later in life.

    This idea of "peaking" at different times inspired new research from the United States. "Many people believe that creativity is exclusively (独有地) associated (有联系的) with youth, but it really depends on what kind of creativity you're talking about," said Bruce Weinburg, a professor of economics at the University of Chicago and co-author of the study.

    According to the study, published earlier this month in the journal De Economist, there are two types of people: conceptual (概念的) and experimental thinkers.

    To reach this conclusion, researchers took the 31 previous winners of the Nobel Prize in economics and arranged them according to when they did their most significant work, to identify (识别) their creative peaks.

    Some peaked from ages 25-29. Classified as conceptual thinkers, these people think outside of the box, coming up with new ideas before they become used to the conventional way of doing things.

    The second creative peak came with economists in their 50s. These are experimental thinkers who have been in their field for a long time. This allows them to learn from errors and experiment with different processes, before eventually finding new solutions.

    "Whether you hit your creative peak early or late in your career depends on whether you have a conceptual or experimental approach," said Weinburg. He added that their study isn't limited to economics, saying it can apply to other creative disciplines (知识领域). So if you're struggling to come up with new ideas, don't panic. Your creative peak may be yet to arrive.

    With the Chinese language growing in popularity, the UK government plans to invest (投资)10 million pounds to help more kids learn Mandarin(普通话).Do you think it is necessary for the UK pupils to learn Mandarin? Some people share their opinions online.

    Tsd(UK):The learning of any language can be valuable and rewarding, but it is not suitable for everyone. Chinese is a difficult language to learn and the UK has a poor reputation for teaching foreign languages. Why should they learn Chinese when most people in the world speak English?

    Mark(US):I studied French for 2 years in high school and German for 4 years in college. I studied Mandarin informally for about 4 months before moving to China. Now I speak Mandarin every day as my wife doesn't speak English. But it is far from being fluent, learning additional languages is a great thing, which offers a different perspective on the world around us. Nowadays, it's almost necessary to be able to speak more than just your native tongue.

George(UK):No, unless they're taught from a very early stage of childhood. Mandarin is so difficult. If China really is going to dominate the world, it'll have to do so by speaking the world's dominant language—English.

    Sam(UK):I don't think Chinese will become as widely spoken throughout the world as English. It is too difficult to learn as a second language. To learn Chinese you completely have to devote yourself to learning how to write and read it. If you have to learn it besides other subjects you can't be good at it. But Chinese will become more popular, and that is a good thing.