Time is both the most fragile and the most unyielding element of life. As long as you are alive, time's footsteps march softly yet resolutely forward. There is no turning back.

In the blink of an eye, months have passed since the major earthquake rocked Taiwan on September 21. If there is comfort to be drawn from the Chichi quake and the temblor that followed a month later in Chiayi, it is in the glimpse they have provided of humanity's basic goodness, its forbearance, determination and courage. All have been on ample display across the island-both in disaster areas and in regions that escaped devastation, both among government workers and private citizens.

To convey their concern and offer a relief donation, Wind Records President Ken Yang and the Canadian environmental musician Matthew Lien visited a disaster area. One scene, in particular, left a deep impression: On a street in Puli a frail old lady stooped amid the remains of a house and piled rubble and bits of aluminum into a small pushcart. Two soldiers asked to help, but she waved them off and continued on her own. When Lien and Yang stopped to watch, the old lady pointed to the rubble and said calmly, "This is my home." Without tears or accusations, she stood amid its remains, picking up her memories and preparing to start over.

Recently, Po Yang, the dissident writer of many works and translator of Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Government into modern Chinese, as well as the poet Li Min-jung and other cultural figures, signed a petition to preserve the nation's collective memories of the September 21 earthquake. Their hope was that some traces of the earthquake would remain, to stand both as a memorial to this time of shared struggle and as a reminder to stay vigilant.

Po Yang made an acute observation about the government's involvement that few had noted previously: In the aftermath of the September 21 quake, the people showed that they expected the government to come to their aid and provide disaster relief. The unrelenting criticisms of the government's rescue efforts were unprecedented. In the past the Chinese people would simply have grit their teeth and borne it.

Only now, in this age of democracy when the people are both taxpayers and voters, has the government acted to help people in need! True, this isn't an ideal society. Yet more and more people are starting to realize that the government isn't all-powerful-that a civil society requires contributions from the entire population and that government is just one important link in the nation's chain. This major disaster has provided some concrete evidence of the emergence of just such a society.

First of all, there were the disaster relief efforts that came from outside government. Lin Pi-yu, the deputy executive director of the Buddhist Compassion Relief Tzu Chi Foundation, noted that the foundation was able to mobilize quickly and efficiently for several reasons. On the one hand, it has abundant experience and hasn't been shackled by the various legal and personnel restrictions that encumber government. On the other hand, because its workers come from all walks of life, the foundation has been able to make the most of their varied individual talents. The foundation's success represents the discovery of society's power. And in Puli, Sun Moon Lake, Chichi, Tungshih and other places damaged by the quake, we have witnessed an emerging community consciousness. To restore our devastated land and make it even better, communities are getting involved in reconstruction efforts, in community planning and even in matters relating to public infrastructure and local economic production. Across the broken outer wall of the Puli Distillery, someone painted in crooked and irregular letters: "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger!" People weren't surrendering in the face of disaster. What's more, there was a growing sense of compassion, of concern for the suffering of others. A true civil society must not be far off. "Locals Lead the Way in Reconstruction" takes a close look at community power in several places that suffered heavy damage from the quake.

In the quake's aftermath, it seemed that all of Taiwan was undergoing a physical check-up. People reflected upon and made concrete suggestions about everything from building code content and earthquake preparedness, to the government's rescue and disaster relief system and the state of the island's seismological research. Geologists have taken this chance to remind us that most people know little about Taiwan's geology. Our cover report "Shake, Rattle . . .and Roll Out the Mountains" seeks to address this lack.

Finally, the Internet performed many services in the temblor's wake. Of course, it provided lists of the dead and injured and information about disaster relief efforts. But it also helped to lift people's spirits by giving them space to express their own feelings and opinions without the editorial interference or space and time constraints that characterize traditional media. The many websites established in response to the September 21 quake bear witness to the strength of social participation in Taiwan. And so, amid the pain and sorrow, we are full of hope. The dark night is nearing its end, and dawn awaits us.