In the morning mist, wake up to the whispers of birds｜Reading

Birds and trees are inseparable.

Trees know the intimacy and whispers of birds.

The footsteps of cold dew and frost are very close to each other. Cold dew, wind and frost are all natural catalysts for tallow trees and sweet maples. Once they touch them, the leaves of the trees will turn red. Pieces of red leaves are falling, and what is lighter than the fallen leaves are the feathers of the birds and the dust in the wind. Relatively speaking, the sound of birds in the trees at this time is weighty and elastic. It seems that the bird's call falls on the branches of the liquidambar or tallow tree, and then bounces back from the leaves of the camphor or oak tree. The whirling process is tactful, clear and beautiful. The chirps of partridges, starlings, sparrows, gray tree magpies, blackbirds, and blue-crowned babblers blend together like a multi-part chorus practiced in the trees. Birds have been chirping at the mouth of the water for many years, calling out the blooming rapeseed flowers, the green maples and the red bridges, and the appearance of people's houses on the flowing water.

The bird is in free fall, pacing, and flying. At first glance, it looks like the silhouette of a bird is contributing to the lushness of the tree. If you look closely, you will see that the lushness of the trees triggers the movement of birds. Birds and trees are inseparable, and the trees know all the intimacy and whispers of the birds. The birds chirped happily, seeming to have attracted the mountain breeze, and the trees with their long sleeves dancing were particularly enchanting. More often than not, trees can hide birds, but they cannot hide their cries. Although, what I often see is the leaves floating in the wind and the reflections spreading in the stream.

Usually, most of the trees and birds that come into my sight are at the water entrance of Wuyuan Village. In the Wuyuan village where ethnic groups live together, close to the mountains and water, the villagers are neighbors with trees and birds. Shuikou is undoubtedly a landscape where man and nature coexist harmoniously, and a reflection of the village's humanities and history. The trees in Shuikou are hundreds or thousands of years old. How many birds have perched on the trees, and how many people have looked up at them? It is undeniable that every time I walk in the village, I walk in a hurry. At the entrance of the village, my steps couldn't help but slow down, and I even stood or sat in silence for a long time. The streams, ancient trees, old vines, arch bridges, road pavilions, and temples at Shuikou are not only the path to the village, but also the source of my enjoyment of meditation. I don't know what else could be more pleasant than listening to the whispers of the ancient trees and the chirping of the birds.

About two years ago in the spring, when the rapeseed flowers were blooming, I met a non-local beekeeper nicknamed "Wupi" during my fieldwork in Yaowan. Wu Pi heard that I like to watch birds at Shuikou, and told me that he could understand the language of birds and could call them by whistling. Sure enough, Whoopi pinched his lower lip and blew the whistle, which was like a thrush's spell. He could call the thrush into the birdcage. Immediately, he raised his hand and let the thrush fly into the bushes again, making a crisp and melodious call. I think Wupi brought beehives and tents to various places to catch up with the flowering period. His calling birds should be a pastime of living in the wild for a long time, or a kind of dialogue with birds.

Egret

White Pheasant

What aroused my greater interest were several "bird friends" from other places. ", they came to Wuyuan fully armed, carrying "long guns and short cannons", hiding themselves for a day or a week, then squatting and waiting, and taking photos of the wonderful moments. The problem is that their shooting is not smooth at first sight. Sometimes after being disguised as a bunker, the waiting process is quite long. Even if the memory card of a digital camera is full, it is difficult to find a few satisfactory works. The bird is high up in the tree and it is dynamic. The key is to capture the reality and interest of the work. To a large extent, behind a good photo is patience and perseverance in addition to testing photographic equipment and skills. It was them who introduced me to egrets, white pheasants, woodpeckers, starlings, blue-crowned babblers and white-legged hawks besides jays.

Blue-crowned Babbler

The scars on the tree and the decay of the branches are the pain of a tree. Unexpectedly, it became the best place for the white-legged falcon to rest. Standing on the dead branches of the treetops, perching in tree holes, or soaring with wings spread, the distinct black and white figure of the little white-legged falcon has attracted my attention countless times. Whether swooping or hovering, the white-legged falcon looks agile and brave. At dawn, I found an old camphor tree that had almost become a "sacred tree" for the white-legged falcon to inhabit.

In the eyes of many out-of-town "bird friends", my life in Wuyuan is almost luxurious, and I can walk around Shuikou, a bird-watching village, every day. Hexi, Shimen, Zhucun, Xiaoqi, Meiyuan, Huangjia, Chaguan, Kaoshui, Zhangcun, Lingli, Gangtou, Dabo... My walking cycle is much more diligent than the habitat and migration of birds. . In the morning, the chirping of the birds at the water entrance of the village was vague and sporadic, and such chirping was just a prelude to greeting friends. After a while, it became lively, as if they were competing, and they each opened their voices. In the daytime, the sound of birds echoes between the tree canopy and the stream surface. It is pure, mellow, long-lasting, and full of fresh natural flavor. As evening approaches, as the light among the trees disappears, the brightness of the water mouth highlights the depth, and the chirping of birds also burrows deeper into the mountains, each sound farther away than the other. Often, I don’t know when the birds gather or when they disperse, but they keep me at the water entrance of the village for a long time.

Occasionally, the sound of a cow mooing, or two or three sounds of a village woman calling a child home, made me feel more intimate.

In Liangli Mountain, where I live in seclusion, camphor, ginkgo, and osmanthus are the main tree species, and there are orchards and vegetable fields nearby. Sparrows, gray tree magpies, cuckoos, etc. also make their homes here. All year round, birds chirp. On the day of the autumnal equinox, I discovered that there were more grass branches and rice stalks on the windowsill. When I looked up, I saw that there was a bird's nest built under the awning. As dusk approached, I realized that the neighbor who had moved in was probably a blackbird.

Every morning, the birds wake me up. In fact, years have passed since I lived with birds, I just didn't realize it.

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