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Back Issues
| The butterfly effect | | Print | |
| Sep / Oct 2008 | |||
 Hong Kong might have a reputation as an Asian economic hub, but there is so much more to the island than just commerce writes Lynne O'Donnell.As unlikely as it may seem to those unfamiliar with the wide range of topography that Hong Kong has to offer - everything from the cheekby-jowl sprawl of Mong Kok and Diamond Hill to the expansive sand-and-surf beaches on the far northern coast that can only be accessed on foot, to the world-class challenge of hiking trails that wind through a surprisingly high percentage of the island, Kowloon side and the outlying islands - the territory is a paradise for bird and butterfly lovers. According to the local parks authority, Hong Kong is home to 235 of the world's 16,000 known species of butterfly - and about onesixth of China's total number of species - and 29 of those can be found in the urban parks that dot the city's residential areas. In the wide open spaces of the nature reserves beyond Sai Kung, butterflies are so prolific, in number and variety, that they seem to dance along the hiking trails, brightening the path and lifting the spirits. Some are so large they look more like small birds than big moths, and they invariably appear in jaunty pairs in colours that range from velvety midnight blue to orange and yellow, and the more mundane but never less energetic browns. Even on the often-crowded beaches along the southern stretch of Hong Kong Island, dusk brings out the butterflies for sunset sorties as the translucent crabs make their way from daytime burrows to water's edge. The existence of butterflies in such prodigious numbers here is a good sign, say the experts, who point to the butterfly's indispensable role in distributing and dispensing pollen among the territory's flora as they flit around drinking nectar, their only food source as adults. And the local environmental departments congratulate themselves on the proliferation of the creatures by pointing to efforts to reforest outlying areas and control hilltop grass fires, as well as establishing projects like that out at Tai Po, the Fung Yuen Butterfly Conservation Area, to count, conserve and protect butterflies in their natural habitat, and teach local school children about the importance of nurturing the eco-system in which they thrive. Birds, too, thrive in Hong Kong and provide another of the few true pleasures of nature in a city where the pollution is a distressing and apparently irremediable problem. The delicate dawn chorus of awakening birdlife includes munias, sparrows, starlings, thrushes, magpies and tits. The presence in the high skies of predatory kites gliding in wide circles on the thermal currents above Hong Kong Island's Mid-Levels district, where several hundred make their home, is one reason the glossily healthy rats that were such a common sight in the gutters and lanes in years past are so seldom spotted these days.  Wildlife experts here count around 450 bird species, which represents a third of all species in China - where birdsong is definitely not a feature of either urban or rural life since the decision in the 1950s to kill birds to prevent them eating grain (rather than the grain-eating insects they did actually eat and which later burgeoned to help destroy entire crops and help starve a generation). As Hong Kong is semi-tropical and hilly, it provides a great stop-over for migratory birds so most of those we see here are just passing through, albeit in large numbers at all times of the year.One of the great joys of the birdlife here is the yellow-crested cockatoo - whose presence makes me feel at home as it reminds me of the sulphur-crested variety, to which it is very similar. Its gregarious addition to the morning chorus, as they are what my mother calls "rowdy on the wing," comes in a regular flyover by members of what is said to be one of the largest free communities in the world. They are said to have built up their numbers over the decades since the Japanese invasion of World War Two, when the governor at the time, Sir Mark Aitchison Young, apparently released his entire bird collection, and British soldiers based here who also kept cockatoos set theirs free. The numbers have no doubt been added to by local pet owners who liked the idea but not the reality of a friendly squawky companion, only to tire of the noise and mess they make and so let them go. They are just as damaging, however, as the cockies at home, and the trees they make their homes in are pretty soon rendered dead and hollow. There was one particular tree that hundreds made their way to each dusk for a raucous catch-up, that stood in the car park of government buildings on Lower Albert Road. One day, the tree disappeared, and then its stump, and all traces of its existence were tarred in what could only be seen as a vindictive and unnecessary means of getting rid of the cockies by destroying their meeting place. For weeks afterwards, the birds came anyway, and would take their place in surrounding trees, on the roof of the bureaucrats' building and on the fence surrounding it, and look down at where their tree had once been, as if to ask why would anyone want to get rid of such a lovely and convenient place to stop and chat. ■
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