Non-birdwatchers view enthusiasts as an exotic species of their own, but this book could expand the breed. Even a casual perusal of this lavishly illustrated yet compact book wipes away the Taipei of streets and smog that most of us know, offering routes bedecked with jewel-colored birds through unpeopled pockets of landscape.
Organized by season and location, it gives 17 birdwatching walks with commentary tossed in about intriguing trees, plants and buildings, the history of paths, folklore and other background. Where else might one learn that the "Guishan Power Plant has become famous for its popsicles"?
The book, a translation of a Chinese book released last year, lacks nothing in portraying its highly visual subjects. An external anatomy chart is helpful for non-birders, decoding such terms as the alula (the elbow of the wing) and supercilium (the eyebrow stripe, a fun linguistic link to eyebrow-raised superciliousness). We learn also that an avian "vagrant" is one who has lost its way during migration, and that "decorative feathers" aren't so named for our appreciation but for mating purposes, and appear only during breeding season.
A sensible bilingual approach has been taken, so non-Chinese speakers can point at many location names embedded in the text to ask for directions, but it's a pity that the Chinese names for the species aren't included to swap notes with local birders one might encounter. The maps are attractive but strictly in English; I wouldn't have minded a little more visual clutter to add Chinese locators.
In contrast, the descriptions of birdcalls seem Chinese: "[T]he Muller's barbet sounds like a temple block being drummed with its calls of `kou, kou, kou, kou,' the streak-breasted scimitar babbler's `duo, duo, duo, duo?gagui' is deep and loud, and the small red-headed tree babbler calls out `jiuji' in a quiet, thin voice."
The Chinese bulbul "loves to sing in a bright, crisp voice, calling out `qiaokeli? qiaokeli?' or `chocolate! chocolate!'" The white-breasted water hen's "doleful cries of `kua, kua' have led people to believe that it is the reincarnation of a wife who could not bear being mistreated by her mother-in-law, and therefore drowned herself in the water. It is also often called the `Pitiful Bird.'"
Non-birders will be bemused by the writers' anthropomorphizing, finding moods and sentiments in every swoop of the wing and around every curve of the path. "The sparrow-like Indian tree pipit loiters among the higher branches, and the rarely seen red-flanked bluetail timidly seeks cover behind the tree trunks, while the brown shrike watches passersby with curious interest." (Scientists might find more quotidian explanations for these behaviors.) Further, the kindly Malaysian night heron fathers inspire the admonition "We can learn a lot from the way these birds care for their families and share the responsibilities."
But not all birds are lovey-dovies. "Little knights in black armor," black drongos are "very territorial, chasing away other birds and even humans who trespass into its territory." We're further warned, "Do not underestimate the Vinous-throated Parrotbill along the sides of the ditch, for this fierce bird is quite territorial and can cause serious injury."
The streak-breasted scimitar babbler was believed by some Aborigines to have predictive abilities, and is also known as the "banded-eyed pirate." In contrast, the day-glo-colored river kingfisher, which adorns the cover with its tiny tail and gigantic beak, is another chivalrous species: "During courting, the male will do everything it can to find and present to the female her favorite kind of food, which she will accept shyly." Would madame like a tadpole?



