杏吧原创

Habitat damage affects butterflies, such as the green hairstreak Image: David Kjaer/Naturepl.com)

I HAVE probably seen more birds and butterflies on dresses and scarves this year than I have in real life.

That fact hadn鈥檛 really registered until I read Rainbow Dust by Peter Marren. So when a flutter of black and red appeared in the corner of my eye, I followed it down an alley. It was a red admiral, feeding on the scrubby plants that had forced their way through London鈥檚 concrete to find a sunny spot.

I suspect David Lindo, self-styled 鈥渦rban birder鈥� and author of Tales from Concrete Jungles, would have approved of my detour in search of wildlife.

Both Marren and Lindo are experienced natural history writers, the former writing about conservation generally, while Lindo鈥檚 focus is birds, and mostly urban ones. Their passion for British wildlife developed in their very different childhoods: Marren鈥檚 in an idyllic country suburb of Birmingham, Lindo鈥檚 in a very non-leafy part of central London.

As a boy, Marren was a keen collector of natural history, and he spent much time chasing, rearing and pinning butterflies 鈥� a hobby now mostly confined to nostalgia.

But he admits that even then he had mixed feelings about his activities: 鈥淚t drew from me wonder, excitement and intense curiosity as well as simple happiness at watching other forms of life. Collecting butterflies also produced more negative emotions: greed, for instance, and shame for having killed such lovely, innocent things.鈥�

His latest book is a history of the cultural significance of butterflies in the UK, with ecological facts about butterflies to add colour. Marren describes the first official British society dedicated to butterflies, formed in London sometime before 1730. At first, this Society of Aurelians (Greek for 鈥済olden ones鈥�) was largely made up of designers, artists and poets, rather than scientists.

He moves on through the somewhat eccentric Victorian collectors to discuss the modern organisation Butterfly Conservation and its efforts to protect declining populations in the UK. And he points out a sad irony: that while collecting butterflies may horrify many conservationists, the practice has probably had a negligible impact on butterfly population numbers compared with the damage to their habitats caused by changes in both farming techniques and land use.

鈥淐ollecting butterflies may horrify conservationists, but it had negligible impact on numbers鈥�

Lindo, as befits an urbanist, is far more positive about human-created habitats and manages to find wildlife havens in every city he visits. His book, a collection of his regular columns for Bird Watching magazine, is filled with his adventures and advice gleaned from his travels to a range of locations. This includes everywhere from supposedly wildlife-free UK towns such as Hartlepool and Croydon to metropolises like Sao Paulo in Brazil and the Czech capital, Prague.

Contrasting sharply with Marren鈥檚 charming but old-school lyricism, Lindo鈥檚 modern, clear writing is in sync with someone whose mantra is: 鈥淭ake me to a city and I鈥檒l show you a bird.鈥�

But despite this infectious enthusiasm, Lindo鈥檚 book can descend into twitchery, with long lists of birds he saw on a trip that sound exotic but mean little to a non-birder.

For example, of an afternoon in Istanbul, Turkey, he writes: 鈥淪tanding by the fire building on the brow of the hill we observed, often at close quarters, well over a hundred low-flying Lesser Spotted Eagles, hoards of Steppe Buzzards, Short-toed Eagles, with a few Eurasian and Levant Sparrowhawks鈥� 鈥�

It鈥檚 easier to identify with Lindo when he advocates finding a local patch to monitor regularly for visiting and resident birds. And I鈥檓 sure Marren would want to do the same for butterflies. I鈥檓 off to adopt my local park and try to improve my sightings this year.

This article appeared in print under the headline 鈥淗ow to save the wild鈥�