Last week at Honghu Park, the air pressure was low as a storm approached. I didn't have much luck and returned disappointed. This holiday, I shifted my bird-watching spot to
Bijiashan, hoping to encounter some precious birds.
It was another hot and stifling day, nearing dusk with intermittent sunshine and rain. As soon as I entered the park, I was greatly disappointed. After walking for half an hour, I
couldn't even spot a single egret. I could faintly hear a few faint bird calls
echoing in the woods, but I could only stand outside and sigh in frustration.
As I continued walking, I started questioning my choices. Was there something wrong with my luck that I couldn't even encounter a single bird? Spiders, on the other hand,
appeared in abundance, especially the human-faced spiders, which could be seen
almost everywhere. I began to think that maybe today was destined for photographing spiders, so I accepted it and went along with it.
I aimlessly wandered for nearly an hour. Feeling a bit frustrated, I made a decision that would bring me immense joy two hours later: to descend the mountain and head towards the lakeside. Luckily, as soon as I arrived at the lakeside, I heard the sound of
birds—a red-billed magpie! Judging by its call, I followed the sound and caught
a glimpse of its silhouette, but in an instant, it flew away. I watched
regretfully as it disappeared into the distance, little did I know that the
next day, I would encounter another fascinating side of the red-billed magpie
(which I will elaborate on in the next article).
Inspired by this encounter with the red-billed magpie, I continued on my journey. It didn't take long before I heard another bird call, loud and easily identifiable—it was a
black-faced babbler. This bird is quite common, so I exchanged a greeting with
it in my mind and left.
The joy I felt from seeing the red-billed magpie slowly faded away, and I couldn't help but feel somewhat dissatisfied. After wandering around for so long, was I only destined
to see silhouettes? According to my plan, it was time to head back, but I
decided to walk along the lakeside a little longer, hoping to encounter something delightful. Sure enough, a precious bird appeared—the Brown-winged Barbet, a nationally protected species that I had seen before! I thought to myself, "Perhaps it assumed I had left and decided to show up, only to find out that I was still there. This, my friend, is what we call anticipating its anticipation."
At first, it was on the grassy lawn by the lake. I faintly saw a brown shadow and mistook it for a pond heron. But when I heard its deep rumbling call, I suddenly realized that it was actually the Brown-winged Barbet. With quick thinking, I crouched down and slowly moved towards it because this species of bird is very vigilant. Although we
were actually quite far apart, it spotted my presence and swiftly disappeared
into the bushes, flying away.
Unwilling encounters cannot be forced, but pretending not to be disappointed would be a lie. I had no choice but to make my way back home. Just then, another Brown-winged Barbet appeared. It was having its dinner! The encounter filled me with immense joy. I proceeded with extreme caution, almost crawling towards it, as humble as could be. I raised my camera and started taking continuous shots, but it didn't seem
to bother its enjoyment of the meal at all. Until raindrops started falling, it leisurely walked back into the woods, and only then did I bid it farewell, still feeling unsatisfied.
Interesting things also happened when I inspected the photos. Looking at the photos was like riding a roller coaster. The initial ones were slightly blurry due to poor focus, which left me feeling down. But as I scrolled through, I came across one perfect
photo—a flawless capture of the Brown-winged Barbet, truly capturing its essence—and my mood soared. Then I saw the last photo, which I considered the most precious one. It might not be as clear, but I managed to capture it while it was eating insects. Daily life photos are far more interesting than formal ID photos. This, my friend, is what we call serendipity.
