Reflection

There was once a beautiful creek northwest of my house. In the autumn the salmons returned to the river to spawn. I have learned that they travel up the main river and track the smell of the creek that they were born in. Once they spawn, they crawl over the fish eggs to protect them from predators and low temperature. For years I had watched the conversion between the two generations, and cheered for the salmon to safely return to that creek. However, I do not only watch the return of the salmon, but also the change in water. The water has become more turbid each day. It becomes a mixture of water and garbage, plastic bags, bottles, and unknown chemicals that I cannot name. Compared to the increasing pollution in the water, the population of salmons is decreasing significantly. They either lose their ways due to the change of the smells of the water, or fail to survive. I still see the salmons–it is solemn and tragic to watch–their red backs against the black water, crawling over their fragile fish eggs.