ÐÓ°ÉÔ­´´

A STRIKING feature of China for a visiting ecologist or naturalist is
the absence of birds from much of the landscape. Our party of 20 ecologists
included several competent ornithologists, yet we saw fewer than 40 species
of birds as we travelled for three weeks in eastern China from Beijing to
Guangzhou. So much of the lowland agriculture landscape is intensively farmed,
with crops occupying every available piece of land, that there are no marginal
habitats left for birds to breed. The virtual eradication of seminatural
habitats over much of China must be a major factor, but trapping, shooting
and incessant disturbance must also take their toll.

There are stories, too, of intense persecution of birds during the Cultural
Revolution, when the whole population was enlisted to wage war on certain
pests. After successful onslaughts on flies and rats, attention turned to
birds because of the damage sparrows were thought to be doing to the crops.
Apparently, people chivvied birds for days on end until they fell exhausted.
There are records of huge piles of birds swept up in the streets of Beijing.

Almost the only birds I saw in Beijing were tree sparrows, crows, magpies,
and a hawk feeding on bats at dusk. Even the Summer Palace park on the edge
of the city had few woodland species, apart from flocks of azure-winged
magpies that raided litter bins at dawn while people nearby were occupied
doing t’ai chi exercises. At other times of day, magpies kept to the tops
of the trees.

Where there was a dawn chorus in Beijing, it turned out to be a group
of men gathered with their cagebirds, which were hung up in the early morning
sun. The gathering apparently stimulates the birds to sing and there is
much competition as to who has the best songster. At such a gathering, across
the road from the Friendship Hotel, the most popular bird was the hwamei,
a species of laughing thrush (Garrulax canorus) found wild in the mountains
of southwest China, but now kept throughout the country as a cagebird. I
was told that during ‘Be kind to birds week’ in February owners parade their
cagebirds in the parks.

Where are the beautiful cranes and the orioles so famous in Chinese
art? Sadly, it seems that few Chinese ever see such birds except in paintings.
I was particularly struck by the total lack of waterbirds on the numerous
fish ponds that pepper the landscape, or even on the larger lakes, such
as West Lake at Hangzhou. The Milu nature reserve near Beijing was a different
matter. This is a walled park where a captive herd of Pere David’s deer
is being reintroduced. Ponds and marshland provided a variety of wetland
habitats suitable for this marsh-loving species, and because this place
is entirely protected, the habitats were full of waterbirds. Here we saw
flocks of heron and night herons together with waders that we saw nowhere
else in China. It seems that the wall is all important.

Some of the forested areas in southern China are much richer in birds.
We visited the Ding Hu Shan Biosphere reserve near Canton, known for its
population of silver pheasants, where the number of bird species is said
to exceed 200. A visit here earlier in the summer would have yielded a much
greater variety of birds.

The absence of birds from heavily populated parts of China is probably
the result of a long tradition of persecution. After all, Cantonese cuisine
includes virtually anything that flies, and it is not surprising that large
cities are virtually devoid of birdlife. But even in the countryside, it
seems that many people are divorced from nature, perhaps without appreciating
what has been lost.

David Goode is director of the London Ecology Unit. He wrote Wild in
London, published by Michael Joseph.