Redefining urban forestry in Shanghai outskirts
The spreading canopies of tall trees near the entrance of a residential community in suburban Shanghai's Qingpu District, where the author lives.
Almost a week has passed, but the rich scent of late spring remains rooted in my mind.
It happened in the early hours of April 22, the 52nd World Earth Day. I opened a window, and the intense aroma of spring trees wafted into my room, drenching me in the cold scent of the season.
What a "luxury present" from nature for someone like me, who has been quarantined at home since April 1.
Trees in a neighbor's garden are filled with the scent of spring.
I was looking out of my bedroom window to see how many people were lining up downstairs for the day's nucleic acid test – a routine quarantine obligation. Based on the length of the line, I projected that our volunteers in charge of maintaining order with staggered calls would notify me of my turn in 20 minutes.
In past weeks, I would lounge around in a more or less mediocre attitude during such waiting periods, but this time was different. The perfume of spring – held in the growing canopies of trees in my downstairs neighbors' mini-gardens – was so prevalent that it braced me up and lifted me into the bosom of nature.
How I relished the experience of being one with nature once more by sensing it with my breath. My former dismal mood, connected with projected repetitive life in lockdown, began to fade as the scent of spring, released after a recent wave of invigorating rain, found its way into every nook and crevice of my room. I gave myself over to a pure bliss provided by nature that cures.
Since then, I've come to value trees' health, aesthetic and emotional aspects more than ever. I've also learned to relax, realizing that life in a temporary state of lockdown is not isolated from nature without which we cannot live.
A resident relaxes on a riverside grassland.
After seeing the photographs I posted on WeChat Moments – an online networking platform for acquaintances – several of my friends described my residential compound as a rare thriving garden.
One close friend even sent me a special gift: a photo of her new painting, which was inspired by one of my images of a well-shaded footpath in my neighborhood. She captioned the photo: "Cheer up! We'll soon get back to normal."
I was glad that my little effort had influenced her, who in turn encouraged others.
A well-shaded footpath in the neighborhood. This snapshot inspired a friend of the author to draw a picture of nature.
A friend who goes by the moniker QQ Fish did this painting based on the above photograph. She has used her WeChat Moments to highlight her creative work and inspire people to be optimistic about the future.
Not many residential communities in the city have such dense trees as the one I live in, but I hope all can find solace in nature, even if they can only get a whiff of spring from scattered trees or plants in their neighborhoods.
The theme of this year's World Earth Day is "Invest in Our Planet." Planting new trees and preserving natural forests are one of the many ways to invest in the future of the Earth.
Earlier this month, Chinese President Xi Jinping stressed the need for forest protection during a tour of Hainan Province. He said that the protection of the vast tropical rainforests in Hainan is of national strategic importance.
Trees are a good example of how nature heals.
According to climatologist Abigail Swann from the University of Washington, the microscopic stomata in leaves can harvest sunlight and rearrange molecules of oxygen, hydrogen and carbon. So, when we smell trees, we simultaneously inhale fresh energy vital to our life.
Human beings survive not just on food, but on oxygen as well. So long as you live among or close to trees, you can take life in lockdown relatively at ease, because you know you are somehow sustained by the roots of life.
That partly explains why Shanghai is throwing its weight behind the construction of five "new cities" surrounded by forests on its outskirts.
Take the suburban Qingpu District as example.
Qingpu plans to build a "new city" surrounded on four sides by pristine forests and farmland. At the end of March, shortly before the citywide lockdown, I toured villages circling the future "new city." By connecting these villages – dots of pristine beauty – Qingpu will build a 40-kilometer greenbelt strewn with existing or expanded rice fields, forests and rivers.
Clusters of natural forests stand at the entrance of Aixing Village, which will be part of the 40-kilometer-long greenbelt around Qingpu New City.
More clusters of natural forests in Aixing Village
For the first time, I noticed so many clusters of natural forests in Aixing Village on the northern outskirts of the "new city," dwarfing trees in many other villages in suburban Shanghai I had visited over the past two years.
I did not talk to anyone during my field study because of COVID-19, but I could see that the natural forests which had grown for decades in Aixing Village were well protected – they created a rustic scene of pristine beauty.
A few steps away from the forests, an old woman was plowing her small piece of vegetable land. She smiled at me as I passed by. We did not talk, but vicariously I enjoyed her simple life away from the mundane crowd.
I drove deeper into the downtown area of the planned "new city," and found, to my surprise, that forests also planted themselves everywhere, even spreading wide canopies over business hubs.
Rice fields and natural forests lie at the heart of a business hub in the Qingpu New City, which is now under construction.
Without such a study, I would not have known that the "new city" is not strictly a city in the old, Western sense that it is intended to be separate from rural life. On the contrary, the "new city" being built in Qingpu has a landscape that is increasingly dominated by forests and farmland rather than concrete buildings.
People in such a "new city" live at a reasonable distance from one another: Communities are separated by clusters of forests and farmland. Indeed, I stumbled upon a couple of young men who had come to buy vegetables from local farmers in the heart of the "new city." There was no separation between this village and the nearby downtown life.
Residents from a downtown area of Qingpu New City play by a rice field.
Such a novel idea – encouraging the growth of forests and farmlands in both the heartland and outskirts of a city – is conducive to better air quality and fewer communicable diseases.
My own neighborhood is situated outside the future "new city" – just close to its eastern border. We do not have many natural forests yet, but we are also surrounded by or mixed with many villages. Therefore we are populated more by trees than by buildings.
Such a living space lends itself to a healthier life than one featuring a "concrete forest." It partly explains why Qingpu has had one of Shanghai's lowest infection rates during the current round of COVID-19 outbreak.
Trees heal – by providing fresh energy and distancing people from each other.
A village across the river from the author's home. It's an example of urbanites and farmers living together.
And trees do more than that. By moving water from ground to air, and carbon from the air to ground, trees go a long way toward helping China reach its carbon-neutral target by 2060.
In Shanghai, aside from Qingpu New City, four other such forest-covered "new cities" will also be built in certain suburbs. International bidding is underway for the design of their greenbelts. The results will be announced this year.
On the International Day of Forests, which was on March 21, my wife and I donated a few hundred yuan to the city's tree-protection plan. The next day, I learned that one of my younger colleagues had donated a bigger sum for the same cause. We proudly showed our certificates to each other. Put together, our little efforts are nothing less than a sustainable investment in hope.
In 2007, an informal meeting of APEC leaders agreed that 20 million hectares of forests would be added throughout the Asia-Pacific region by 2020. In the end, 27.9 million hectares were actually added. In the breakdown, China alone added 26.5 million hectares.
In her bestselling book "The Long, Long Life of Trees," Fiona Stafford, professor of English at the University of Oxford, says that life stirs "in the barest twigs." It's fortunate for us to live in a city and a country that both give trees an ever more critical role in creating a life in which one learns to live in harmony with nature and with oneself.
Nature's peace: A heron stands by a river near the author's home. The villas are owned by farmers who live across the river.
