About five weeks ago, I noticed the skin of our pet lizard was growing dusty. It worried me. I reported the strange surface on the skin of the lizard to my husband and children the next morning. Seconds later, our lizard emerged from its tank with its old skin flowing behind it.

I didn't think about it much until a morning last week when I knocked my favorite teapot off the table. It burst into hundreds of pieces. As I swept up the mess, I wondered why we had been breaking so many things over the months.

The destruction started three months ago. It was my husband's birthday. He had just lost his job. The uncertainty was starting to wear on us, so I wanted to do something special.

"Let's make a cake for Dad" I cried.

My kids screamed with joy. We baked, iced and sprinkled for most of the day. Candles on the cake! Balloons on the walls! Flowers on the table!

Two hours before my husband came back home from another job interview, my daughter climbed up to grab a glass vase from a high shelf. It fell and crashed beside the cake. Tiny pieces of glass were everywhere. She sobbed loudly as I threw the cake away. My husband had banana pudding for his birthday.

Three days ago, the light in our living room suddenly went out. After several frustrating hours of unsuccessful attempts to fix it, my husband suggested watching the Michael Jordan documentary series The Last Dance.

The poignancy of Jordan retiring from his beloved basketball to play baseball and what had pushed him to make such a tough decision took me by surprise. As I watched him take off his basketball uniform and replace it with a baseball uniform, I saw him leaving behind the layer that no longer served him, just as our lizard had. Neither of them chose the moment that had transformed them. But they had to live with who they were after everything was different. Just like us. I realized that we have to learn to leave the past behind.

Humans do not shed skin as easily as other animals. The beginning of change is upsetting. The process is tiring. Damage changes us before we are ready. I see our lizard, raw and nearly new.

Jordan said that no matter how it ends, it starts with hope. With our tender, hopeful skin, that is where we begin.

George Gershwin, born in 1998, was one of America's greatest composers. He published his first song when he was eighteen years old. During the next twenty years he wrote more than five hundred songs.

Many of Gershwin's songs were first written for musical plays performed in theatres in New York City. These plays were a popular form of entertainment in the 1920s and 1930s. Many of his songs have remained popular as ever. Over the years they have been sung and played in every possible way — from jazz to country.

    In the 1920s there was a debate in the United States about jazz music. Could jazz, some people asked, be considered serious music? In 1924 jazz musician and orchestra leader Paul Whiteman decided to organize a special concert to show that jazz was serious music. Gershwin agreed to compose something for the concert before he realized he had just a few weeks to do it. And in that short time, he composed a piece for piano and orchestra which he called Rhapsody in Blue. Gershwin himself played the piano at the concert. The audience were thrilled when they heard his music. It made him world-famous and showed that jazz music could be both serious and popular.

    In 1928, Gershwin went to Paris. He applied to study composition (作曲)with the well-known musician Nadia Boulanger, but she rejected him. She was afraid that classical study would ruin his jazz-influenced style. While there, Gershwin wrote An American in Paris. When it was first performed, critics (评论家)were divided over the music. Some called it happy and full of life, to others it was silly and boring. But it quickly became popular in Europe and the United States. It still remains one of his most famous works.

    George Gershwin died in 1937, just days after doctors learned he had brain cancer. He was only thirty-nine years old. Newspapers all over the world reported his death on their front pages. People mourned the loss of the man and all the music he might have still written.

As Ginni Bazlinton reached Antarctica, she found herself greeted by a group of little Gentoo penguins（企鹅）longing to say hello. These gentle, lovely gatekeepers welcomed her and kick-started what was to be a trip Ginni would never forget.

Ever since her childhood, Ginni, now 71, has had a deep love for travel. Throughout her career（职业）as a professional dancer, she toured in the UK, but always longed to explore further When she retired from dancing and her sons eventually flew the nest, she decided it was time to take the plunge.

After taking a degree at Chichester University in Related Arts, Ginni began to travel the world, eventually getting work teaching English in Japan and Chile. And it was in Chile she discovered she could get last-minute cheap deals on ships going to Antarctica from the islands off Tierra del Fuego, the southernmost tip of the South American mainland. "I just decided wanted to go," she says. "I had no idea about what I'd find there and I wasn't nervous, I just wanted to do it. And I wanted to do it alone as I always prefer it that way."

In March 2008, Ginni boarded a ship with 48 passengers she'd never met before, to begin the journey towards Antarctica. "From seeing the wildlife to witnessing sunrises, the whole experience was amazing. Antarctica left an impression on me that no other place has," Ginni says. "I remember the first time I saw a humpback whale; it just rose out of the water like some prehistoric creature and I thought it was smiling at us. You could still hear the operatic sounds it was making underwater."

The realization that this is a precious land, to be respected by humans, was one of the biggest things that hit home to Ginni.