You who are destined to fly will make the sky your home

This is a fable about growth and upbring­ing, and also a poem about “home”.

At first, the birdsFeit­ianHome is a nest made of “fine mate­ri­als,” woven from branch­es brought by his par­ents, a place of shel­ter, pro­tec­tion, and gen­tle sup­port. But in the end, Fei Tian’s true home is no longer among the inter­twined branch­es, but in the vast sky. The sky—vast, uncer­tain, yet des­tined to belong to him. “You are a bird” is like a call, and its inner echo is: you are des­tined to fly, des­tined to make the sky your home.

The illus­tra­tor uses rhyth­mic com­po­si­tions and fresh, dynam­ic brush­strokes to elo­quent­ly tell this fable through a series of images. The main char­ac­ter, com­posed of blue, white, and red, is clean, sharp, and instant­ly rec­og­niz­able. The flex­i­ble use of mixed media, includ­ing water­col­or and ink, imbues the paint­ing with a sense of trans­paren­cy and lay­er­ing, cre­at­ing a dream­like expe­ri­ence. The bird’s feath­ers resem­ble flames, and the lines of its nest resem­ble rip­ples, cre­at­ing a sense of move­ment with­in still­ness and emo­tion with­in move­ment.

The sto­ry’s rhyth­mic arrange­ment is even more inge­nious. Half of the screen is pri­mar­i­ly hor­i­zon­tal, with a smooth nar­ra­tive and steady rhythm, rem­i­nis­cent of a dream that has­n’t yet tak­en flight, or the hes­i­ta­tion before take­off. A lit­tle bird, Feit­ian, remains in its nest, hes­i­tant to take that first step. While its fel­low birds are hap­pi­ly soar­ing, it remains nes­tled. The “nest” here isn’t just a phys­i­cal nest; it rep­re­sents a spir­i­tu­al bound­ary.

The trans­for­ma­tion of the par­ents lies at the emo­tion­al core of the book. They begin to tear down the house—pulling one branch each day, start­ing from the edge, bit by bit, loos­en­ing the sense of secu­ri­ty. While this action may seem cru­el at first glance, their tone remains ten­der. The feel­ing of “reluc­tant to let go, yet still hav­ing to” flows like water in their eyes and ges­tures. The moth­er does­n’t try to stop the father; she watch­es and under­stands, until she her­self removes the last branch. Let­ting go is some­times a sign of deep­er love.

Final­ly tak­ing flight, Fei Tian ini­tial­ly resem­bles “a kite with a bro­ken string,” per­haps the most apt metaphor for that moment. It’s a shaky, unsta­ble ges­ture, yet one final­ly freed from its con­straints. From falling to soar­ing, Fei Tian’s take­off isn’t a momen­tary spec­ta­cle, but rather a jour­ney of inner awak­en­ing. The emo­tion­al cli­max of this moment is clev­er­ly cap­tured through a shift in the com­po­si­tion’s rhythm: from hor­i­zon­tal to ver­ti­cal, and from hor­i­zon­tal­ly flow­ing visu­al lines to ver­ti­cal­ly ascend­ing ones, this dra­mat­ic rever­sal from falling to ascend­ing allows ample room for expres­sion, set­ting the stage for a cel­e­bra­tion of “soar­ing into the sky.”

The paint­ing with the most white space seems the most wor­thy of scruti­ny: The entire page is dom­i­nat­ed by a sin­gle bird, soar­ing from the very cen­ter of the bot­tom, ready to flap its wings upwards, like a solo dancer under a spot­light. The empti­ness of the space, in turn, imbues it with emo­tion­al full­ness. This is not only the bird’s first flight, but also its farewell to its old “home” and its con­nec­tion to its new one.

The design of the front and back loops is also worth men­tion­ing. The front loop fea­tures a pale sil­hou­ette of a fly­ing bird, sym­bol­iz­ing poten­tial and dreams yet to be embarked on. The back loop, how­ev­er, trans­forms to a dark green back­ground, where the same sil­hou­ette becomes a clear, danc­ing bird, imbued with the ener­gy of life and free­dom. This shift echoes Fei Tian’s evo­lu­tion: no longer sim­ply a “fly­ing bird,” it becomes a tru­ly free-spir­it­ed being who calls the sky her home.

A good pic­ture book is often an ele­gant and har­mo­nious ensem­ble of text and images. Cao Wenx­u­an’s text and Tian Dong­ming’s illus­tra­tions offer a bril­liant exam­ple of this sym­pho­ny. The depth of mean­ing and the blank spaces left in the text and images also leave room for rich inter­pre­ta­tion. This book is a gift for all chil­dren hes­i­tant about grow­ing up, and for every par­ent who will even­tu­al­ly let go. Its gen­tle yet firm reminder: “You are a bird” is not only a con­fir­ma­tion of iden­ti­ty, but also an awak­en­ing of destiny—a life des­tined to fly, its true home lies not in a pro­tect­ed nest, but in the sky where it dares to spread its wings and soar.

Because home not only pro­vides a safe haven, but also serves as a start­ing point for chil­dren to have the strength to trav­el far.

The sky is Fei Tian’s des­tined home.

Writ­ten in Bei­jing on March 25, 2025