Birds in a Wounded Tree

The large-leaved fig tree was fully mature and had grown into a lovely shape. The shade from the tree could cover the area of half a volleyball court. It stood in solitude; no other green thing paid it company within ten meters in any direction. There were only a number of electrical lines strung above it. Its location was in front and to the left of the China Youth Corps Activities Center in Hualien County.

Going out on a business trip with a colleague, my original purpose in coming to this center was to look for a place to stay the night. There were no vacancies, however, and as I disappointedly walked out, to my surprise I discovered this large-leaved fig tree in the open area in front of the building. Innumerable small buds of fruit were blossoming full like glass marbles, red and green, on its branches.

These fruit are the kind that many little birds love to eat; the tree magnetically pulled in many varieties of small birds which peeped incessantly and noisily. We were lured by this beautiful sound, curiously drawing close to the tree to take a closer look. Amazing! To our surprise there were many different kinds of birds, and they showed no great fear of humans. When we walked into their private territory, they did not fly away.

The most plentiful species was the Japanese White-eye; between 20 and 30 of them played in the tree. They self-assuredly pecked fruit, heads held high or dipped low, not even frightened away by the sound of a car door opening and closing under the tree or the rumble of an engine. Their stature was rather small, but they smoothly moved to pluck the figs. They gradually moved closer and closer to the camera's lens, until they forced me to step back in order to focus. Capturing their images was certainly "closeup" photography.

Many Taiwan bulbuls also showed up, but they were more bashful. With just a gust of wind rattling the leaves, they would quickly rush in unison to a large tree in the distance, or they would jump onto the electrical lines overhead, surveying enemy activity for some time before deciding whether or not to descend again.

There were many mosquitoes under the tree, and we received a good many welts from their bites. Yet we simply had no time to scratch at our itches. A small pickup truck was propitiously placed next to the tree, and I easily climbed into the truck bed to claim a more advantageous angle.

Suddenly, a colorful Muller's barbet, adorned in five different hues, arrived to take part in the raucous fun. Its special appearance was very conspicuous, and it was larger than the others and easier to photograph. The barbet was unafraid of people, as well,and I could not help but continuously click my camera shutter. I recalled previous occasions in the wilderness when it had been most difficult to even catch a glimpse of this kind of bird; one could not even dream of photographing it without at least a 600 or 1000 mm lens, and then the bird would occupy only a small corner of the photo.

Again, two other kinds of birds appeared. One kind had blackish wing feathers with red eyes. There were four of these birds. A single bird of the other species had ocher wing feathers and a very lightly colored body.

Passersby on the road stared at us in curiosity, wondering what we were doing with a camera and high-powered lenses, motionlessly fixing our gazes into the trees. After we had finished, the nearby tofu stand proprietor informed us that near dusk the birds gathered are fewer; at noon the numbers are at least twice as many and the photo opportunities even more inviting.

After we had taken pictures for some time, the sky darkened and the sun's rays became insufficient for our cameras. We made ready to go looking for a different place to sleep. At the same time, many of the cars that had originally been parked around the tree were one by one driven away. It was then that we suddenly discovered that this tree had been stripped of a layer of bark.

When we beheld this sight, we were completely saddened. We had heard that in the mountains, illegal loggers commonly use this method when they wish to obtain precious hard woods, first causing the tree to wither. After the tree has died, forest service units hold a bidding for the tree, and at that time the loggers fix the bid, so that they need pay only a little money to smoothly get a hold of the tree. Afterwards they turn around and sell the timber at a high price, maintaining formidable profits. But this tree was a senseless sacrifice.

That night we stayed on the sixth floor of the National War Heroes' Hostel, on the other side of the large leaved fig tree. Looking down from our window, we got a perfect view of it.

At dawn of the following day, from our tightly closed window came the clamorous twitterings of birds. I quickly grabbed my camera and raced down the stairs, but the variety and numbers of birds were not as great as the previous day.

As I was leaving, I felt quite a degree of remorse, for I had no way of knowing if the next time I came to Hualien County I would be able to greet this grand fig tree.

[Picture Caption]

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Taiwan Bulbul

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Red-bellied Thrush

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Japanese White-eye

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Muller's Barbet

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Taiwan Whistling Thrush

Red-bellied Thrush.

Japanese White-eye.

Muller's Barbet.

Taiwan Whistling Thrush.