Weddings in the United States vary as much as the people do. There are church weddings with a great deal of fanfare(仪式上的短曲); there are weddings on mountain tops with guests barefooted; there have been weddings on the ocean floor with oxygen tanks for the guests. But many weddings, no matter where or how they are performed, include certain traditional customs.

    Before a couple is married, they become engaged. And then invitations are sent to those who live nearby, their close friends and their relatives who live far away. When everything is ready, then comes the most exciting moment.

    The wedding itself usually lasts between 30 and 40 minutes. The wedding party enters the church while the wedding march is played. The bride carrying a bouquet enters last with her father who will “give her away”. The groom enters the church from a side door. When the wedding party is gathered by the altar, the bride and groom exchange vows(誓言). It is traditional to use the words “to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.” Following the vows, the couple exchange rings. Wearing the wedding rings on the fourth finger of the left hand is an old custom.

    After the ceremony, there is often a party, called a “reception” which gives the wedding guests an opportunity to congratulate the new couple.

    The car in which the couple leaves the church is decorated with balloons. The words “Just Married” are painted on the trunk or back window. And then the couple go in their honeymoon.

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    Who taught you to speak English? Your parents, while you were a young child? Your teachers at school ? Perhaps even the BBC as a grown-up. Whoever it was, somehow you have developed an understanding of what is rapidly becoming a truly global language.

    There are now about 376 million people who speak English as their first language and about the same number who have learnt it besides their mother tongue. It is said there are one billion people learning English now and about 80% of the information on the Internet is in English.

    Is this a good thing, or a bad thing? Should we celebrate the fact that more and more of us can communicate, using a common language, across countries and cultures? Or should we worry about the dangers of “mono-culturalism", a world in which we all speak the same language, eat the same food and listen to the same music?

    Does it matter if an increasing number of people speak the same language? On the contrary (相反),I would have thought——although I have never accepted the argument that if only we all understood each other better, there would be fewer wars. Ask the people of India (where many of them speak at least some English) and Pakistan (the same situation with India)…

    If we all speak English, will we then all start eating McDonald's burgers? Surely not. If English becomes more dominant (占主导地位的), it will kill other languages? I doubt it. When I travel in Africa or Asia, I am always surprised by how many people can speak not only their own language but also one or more other related languages, as well as English and perhaps some French or German as well.

    When we discussed this on Talking Point a couple of years ago, we received a wonderfully poetic email from a listener in Ireland. "The English language is a beautiful language. Maybe it's like a rose," he said. "But who would ever want their garden just full of roses?"

    Well, I love roses, and I think they make a beautiful addition to any garden. But the way I see it, just by planting a few roses, you don't necessarily need to pull out everything else. If more and more people want to plant English roses, that's fine by me.

    Do you know the difference between a food chain anda food web? Food chains show how a living thing such as a plant or an animal gets its energy. A food web consists of multiple food chains and includes many more plants and animals than a food chain includes. This diagram shows a food chain within a food web of the African savanna.

    I was 16 when my father finally decided he would send me to wilderness camp for several months. He had threatened to do it many times before, but my mother had always managed to prevent him from doing so. This ti me he insisted on doing it.

    The latest incident was the last straw. Impulsively (冲动地), I had pushed Mr. Ford, my math teacher, down a flight of steps at school. He broke his arm in two places. Anyway, he had agreed not to accuse me as a favor to my dad, who was in the middle of a tight race for sheriff (执法官) in our town. But my reckless behavior had my dad's closest advisor talking.

    "John, he's your son and he's a kid, but he is dragging you down," I heard Jake Hutch tell my dad through his closed office door the night after I pushed Mr. Ford. "If you can't make your son obey the rules, how can you make the law obeyed in this town?"

    So, off to Pisgah National Forest I went. I imagined hours of untold abuse at the hands of some strong sergeants (军士). I was determined not to be broken. I was who I was,

    Nearly every day for six months, a small group of other troubled teens and I carried our 30-pound backpacks on a difficult journey covering about 10 miles. We hiked in a rough wilderness that seemed untouched by civilization.

    Our sergeants were firm but kind, not frightening as I had imagined. We learned how to make a fire without matches and create a shelter with branches and grass. We learned which plants were safe to eat out in the wild. I felt myself change. I was calm and often reflective. My old, impulsive self was gone.

    One morning, six months later, my dad came to pick me up. I ran to hug him and saw happiness and love in his eyes.

    "So what's it like being sheriff?" I asked on the ride home.

    "I lost the race, Danny," he said.

    "I'm sorry, Dad." I knew my behavior probably had a lot to do with the defeat.

    Dad squeezed my shoulder and brought me close. "As long as I don't ever lose you, I'm okay."

    Fern loved Wilbur more than anything. She loved to stroke him, to feed him, to put him to bed. Every morning, as soon as she got up, she warmed his milk, tied his bib on, and held the bottle for him.  Every afternoon, when the school bus stopped in front of her house, she jumped out and ran to the kitchen to fix another bottle for him. She fed him again at suppertime, and again just before going to bed.  Mrs. Arable gave him a feeding around noontime each day, when Fern was away in school. Wilbur loved his milk, and he was never happier than when Fern was warming up a bottle for him. He would stand and gaze up at her with adoring eyes.

    For the first few days of his life, Wilbur was allowed to live in a box near the stove in the kitchen. Then, when Mrs. Arable complained, he was moved to a bigger box in the woodshed. At two weeks of age, he was moved outdoors. It was apple-blossom time, and the days were getting warmer. Mr.  Arable fixed a small yard specially for Wilbur under an apple tree, and gave him a large wooden box full of straw, with a doorway cut in it so he could walk in and out as he pleased.

    "Won't he be cold at night?" asked Fern.

    "No," said her father.  "You watch and see what he does."

    Carrying a bottle of milk, Fern sat down under the apple tree inside the yard. Wilbur ran to her and she held the bottle for him while he sucked. When he had finished the last drop, he grunted and walked sleepily into the box. Fern peered through the door. Wilbur was poking the straw with his snout. In a short time he had dug a tunnel in the straw. He crawled into the tunnel and disappeared from sight, completely covered with straw.

    Fern was enchanted. It relieved her mind to know that her baby would sleep covered up, and would stay warm.

    Still seeking a destination for your weekend break? There are some places which are probably a mere walk away from your college.

    King's Art Centre

    A day at the Centre could mean a visit to an exhibition of the work of one of the most interesting contemporary artists on show anywhere. This weekend sees the opening of an exhibition of four local artists.

    You could attend a class teaching you how to learn from the masters' or get more creative with paint—free of charge.

    The Centre also runs two life drawing classes for which there is a small fee.

    The Botanic Garden

    The Garden has over 8,000 plant species；it holds the research and teaching collection of living plants for Cambridge University.

    The multibranched Torch Aloe here is impressive. The African plant produces red flowers above bluegreen leaves, and is not one to miss.

    Get to the display house to see Dionaea muscipula a plant more commonly known as the Venus Flytrap that feeds on insects and other small animals.

    The Garden is also a place for wildlife enthusiasts. Look for grass snakes in the lake. A snake called ‘Hissing Sid' is regularly seen lying in the heat of the warm sun.

    Byron's Pool

    Many stories surround Lord Byron's time as a student of Cambridge University.  Arriving in 1805, he wrote a letter complaining that it was a place of "mess and drunkenness". However, it seems as though Byron did manage to pass the time pleasantly enough. I'm not just talking about the pet bear he kept in his rooms. He spent a great deal of time walking in the village.

    It is also said that on occasion Byron swam naked by moonlight in the lake, which is now known as Byron's Pool. A couple of miles past Grantchester in the south Cambridgeshire countryside, the pool is surrounded by beautiful circular paths around the fields. The cries of invisible birds make the trip a lovely experience and on the way home you can drop into the village for afternoon tea. If you don't trust me, then perhaps you'll take it from Virginia Woolf—over a century after Byron, she reportedly took a trip to swim in the same pool.