text tAn American sinologist I know came to Taiwan to teach again last summer. Years ago, we used to visit wetlands and low-altitude forests. So this time I intended to invite him to see the high mountain birds in Mt. Hehuan.
 
Surprisingly, he asked me “Can we go see black-faced spoonbills?” He was translating my article on the bird.
 
I hesitated. He was confused: Why wouldn’t I prefer to go somewhere closer when I have time for high mountains.
 
I explained, “These migrants may have left Zengwun River mouth now.”
 
Again, he replied “Of course I know they are gone by now but it would be nice just to visit the site!”
 
So, I gave in. Fortunately, it occurred to me that the Black-Faced Spoonbill Conservation Center has been set up, and would be a good place to visit.
 
On the way to the river mouth, we first visited the center, which was empty in off-season with only one service representative. To save energy, lights were dimmed and only turned on when we showed up.
 
When I visited six months ago, the enriched to encompass species and ecological environment in the surroundings of Cigu and various data on the world spoonbill family, including that in N. Korea. The center offers far richer info of one single bird than any other one of its kind I visited overseas, which made me proud when I showed him in.
 
Then, we visited Zengwun River mouth, an even more desolate place without a single human being but a bower and an empty wetland.
 
I looked at him and said jokingly “Don’t blame me. I’ve told you.”

He nodded quietly and then walked around. I took a higher ground and tried to find something and he shouted.
 
What happened? I went in the bower and saw him picking up a poster bulletin out of a pile of stuff in the back and screamed happily “Look at this!”
 
On the poster, it said “Song of Black-Faced Spoonbills” in Taiwanese with lyrics. Not an expert in poetic Taiwanese, I explained the lyrics to him in difficulty.

He then asked me to take a picture of him with the poster.

“Just with the poster?” I asked. shows I visited here.”

I agreed, and held up the camera, ready to shoot as I recalled a few years ago when I visited New Zealand, I also took a picture with a model of royal albatross after I waited in a conservation center and did not get to see any. Now I understood how he felt.
 
It was touching to see that a New Yorker would visit the site without presence of black-faced spoonbills and a left-behind poster would make him so happy.
 
With our official promotion on conserving black-faced spoonbills yet to unfold internationally, he had already showed such interest. When Taijiang National Park is founded to include the large wetland and preserve more life on the west coast, it should attract even more international visitors.

My eyes were wet on this thought. The camera hid my embarrassment. To prevent him from noticing, I just kept moving around and pressing the shutter

Author Profile
 
Ke-siang Liou is a long-term observer, photographer and painter of Taiwan’s Nature.  He also teaches and writes with nearly 40 natural ecology-related publications.  Winner of Wu Sen-Lian Award, Wu Lu-cin Prose Award and Golden Tripod Awards, Liou is now a professional writer.  His “Forever Albatross” just won the awards at the Taipei International Book Exhibition 2009.

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