From July 22nd to July 24th, I left Shenzhen for Dongzhai in Xinyang for a bird-watching activity. This place is hailed as a paradise for bird-watching in China, home to many birds that are not commonly seen elsewhere. Many national protected animals also have dedicated conservation bases there, such as the Crested Ibis, a beautiful bird species as cherished as the giant panda, existing in only three places nationwide, with Xinyang being one of them.
Day 1
On the first day, after a six-hour high-speed train journey, I arrived in Xinyang at 7 p.m., just in time to participate in a night observation activity. The night is an excellent opportunity to look for cats. Not the feline kind, but owls. As is well known, owls like to perch on treetops, and they are extremely hard to find at night when it's dark. Therefore, we used high-tech equipment, namely thermal imaging cameras. Even so, the harvest that night was actually not great. The thermal imager had difficulty penetrating through the layers of leaves to detect traces of owls. From 8 p.m., we began wandering in the woods until at 10 p.m., through the gaps in the leaves, we saw the silhouette of an owl. The distance was too far, and without light, the shooting was very unclear, but those bright yellow eyes in the distance were vivid, indicating that there was at least some gain that night. That night's night observation was just an appetizer; the full feast was yet to come.
Day 2
Full of enthusiasm, I got up at 5 a.m., ready for the morning observation. The target was a local special bird species - the White-crowned Long-tailed Pheasant. This bird is unique to China and is only found in Xinyang. Before dawn, I entered the depths of the conservation area with my guide. Carrying a large camera, weighing about 6 pounds for a long cross-country trek, the journey took nearly half an hour, all on dirt or gravel roads, occasionally wading through water or stepping on shaky stones, and even climbing dirt slopes. This wasn't much of a challenge for me usually, but carrying a camera made it different. Every step had to be carefully considered; otherwise, it wouldn't matter much if I ended up sitting on a pile of dirt, but if the camera fell, it would be a disaster.
Finally, we reached the observation point, but an accident happened again. When I looked forward to seeing the nest of the White-crowned Long-tailed Pheasant, the sky suddenly poured down a heavy rain. Unspeakable feelings at that moment! A location where the White-crowned Long-tailed Pheasant could almost always be seen, because of the heavy rain, the birds did not come out. After waiting in vain for 40 minutes, filled with disappointment, we returned to the hostel in the rain.
The entire morning was mostly spent in the drizzle, until almost 10 a.m. when we set off by car to a large rice field. There, we found a rich variety of bird species, and I was fully rewarded, discovering many cherished and interesting birds. But the biggest surprise that morning came from the driver, who was also our bird-watching guide, arguably the most miraculous person I've encountered in my years of nature observation. He had a talent: while driving, he would glance left and right, spot birds on electric poles or by the roadside, hit the brakes, and accurately name the bird. In the outskirts of Xinyang, where cars are scarce, stopping a car by the roadside is not unusual, and looking around is not as dangerous as it would be in a big city. Thus, having observed birds so frequently, he developed this amazing ability. Just after the rain that day, with the road still covered in a thin mist, we were speeding at 60 kilometers per hour on the deserted road. Suddenly, the car stopped, startling me as I thought something had gone wrong. The bird guide casually mentioned, "Crested Kingfisher, on the pole." The Crested Kingfisher had always been a bird I wanted to find, similar to the Pied Kingfisher and very hard to see. It was indeed lucky to have one perched on an electric pole this time. In hindsight, I didn't see anything on the electric pole at the moment; it felt like the Pied Kingfisher never appeared in my line of sight. Even if it did, it might just be a small black dot, easily overlooked. Yet he could spot the bird and directly name it, which was astonishing.
The morning's adventures and photos left me amazed, but the highlight of the trip was in the afternoon: the Crested Ibis, a national first-class protected animal, listed as critically endangered along with the giant panda. I went to the habitat of wild Crested Ibises, waiting for their return from feeding. As the name implies, the Crested Ibis certainly has red coloring. When it tucks its wings, it appears as a white large bird; but when it spreads its wings to fly, the inner sides of the wings are the color of flamingos, orange tinged with red. The head is truly red, with a long bird beak. During their breeding season, they secrete a gray substance that is eaten by their partner. At this time, their bodies turn to a grayish-black color. Crested Ibises like to live in rice fields, usually perching on large trees, with their nesting time roughly around 6:00~7:00 p.m. Due to a lack of understanding of their habits, we arrived at the rice fields at around 4 p.m., waiting for about two hours. During this period, except for one on a tree, the other dozen or so were nowhere to be seen. Most of my companions gave up observing and turned to look for other bird species, but I thought, rather than looking for other even more elusive birds, it would be better to stay here and record more about the Crested Ibises. We split into two groups, I and another uncle who shared the same idea stayed at the habitat, while others went to look for the White-crowned Long-tailed Pheasant. Around 6:30 p.m., the Crested Ibises returned to their nests! Whether alone, in pairs, or even three together, in the sunset, the Crested Ibises spread their wings, elegant and stunning! It was a satisfying and unforgettable sight.
On the last morning, I also got up early at 5:00 a.m. This time, the goal was to find a critically endangered bird species: the Common Nightingale. Despite its common name, it is an extremely difficult bird to encounter, even more so than the Crested Ibis. Because it is rare and elusive, the presence of the Crested Ibis is easier to notice. According to the bird guide, some people have been bird-watching for ten to twenty years without ever seeing one. The reason might be that its color is too similar to the trees. The brown feathers of the Common Nightingale, with black spots, are almost identical to the color of trees; lying on a tree, it is almost impossible to detect.
This time, we didn't search blindly but headed to a remote hill where there were Nightingale chicks and traces of Nightingale activity. This hill wasn't very high, not even worthy of being called a hill, just a small mound about 100 meters above ground level. However, because it was entirely covered with dense vegetation, climbing it was quite challenging, not to mention the possibility of encountering spider webs or plants with thorns blocking the way. But after more than half an hour of climbing, we successfully reached the top. Eventually, on a downward-sloping small mound, we saw the eggs and chicks of the Nightingale, but the mother Nightingale was nowhere to be found. Finally, through layers of branches and leaves, we spotted the adult Nightingale on a crooked old tree. It had been lying on the tree trunk all along but looked exactly like a knot on the tree, almost completely unobservable. Discovering it was a wonderful surprise. One of our group members, in a resigned manner, scanned the forest with binoculars, noticing a small protrusion on a tree. On closer inspection, it turned out to be the Nightingale. We were ecstatic at the time, afraid of disturbing it, so everyone slid down the mound, sitting in a row, trying not to make any noise, allowing the leaves or branches to scratch our faces or necks. The Nightingale cooperated well, remaining motionless. Until everyone had taken satisfactory photos, it then shook its feathers and flew to a denser part of the foliage, waiting for us to leave before returning to continue incubating its eggs.
Extra Episode
On the first night of observation, we found a little bird that had fallen to the ground, a young Jay. It hadn't learned to fly yet, only hopping around. That night, it failed to perch steadily on a tree and fell down. Fortunately, we saw it while walking. On the first night and the following morning, we tried to put it back on the tree and acclimatize it, but without exception, all attempts failed. Its body, for some unknown reason, couldn't support it to fly. Thus, this little Jay became our most loyal companion for these three days.
Every day, apart from bird-watching, the second most important thing was to find insects for it to eat. The main food was dragonflies and grasshoppers, as these two types of insects are very common in the wild grasslands. While searching for birds, one might simply look down to find a pair of grasshoppers or a dragonfly resting on a leaf. In this way, we accompanied it for three days. Its progress was evident, from a rookie that always fell from the tree to now being able to fly short distances. We returned deep into the city, and it remained on the tree at the hostel we stayed at, taken care of by the guide who also stayed there. The guide has been keeping us updated on its condition, and we all hope it can return to the sky soon.
