Vanessa's Journal

Sept. 20, 2009

Making a Splash

I think it is safe to say that we got off to an invigorating start with our hike up to the field station.

 The morning started off innocently enough, as we gathered our belongings and drove up the road to the base of the mountain. When we got there, a light rain sprinkled. I didn’t think much of it, as during this time of year, that might happen in Wolong at one time or another every day. We decided to press on with our departure. We distributed our multiple boxes of food and supplies among our sturdy equipment-carrier persons and set out on the two- hour hike.

As we walked, I felt the rain start to come down harder, and by the time we made it half way, it was pouring buckets. My companions and I all looked like drowned rats with our soaked clothing and rain-drenched faces. I just kept trying to put one foot in front of the other on what was one of our most miserable excursions up to the field station in recent memory.

At one point, my carriers stopped me and started yelling above the sound of the rain about something up ahead on the trail. I couldn’t make out what they were saying at first, but then I realized that they were warning me about a notorious bee hive up ahead on the trail. It had been unexpectedly discovered by an unwitting friend of mine who had gotten stung twice and is still sore one month later. Luckily, the team had since created a new trail that bypassed said beehive.

We clamored up the safer, albeit more steep and awkward trail today. It struck me at that moment that it was refreshing to encounter a situation in which humans had encountered a barrier in nature and decided to adapt their behavior to accommodate the natural entity, rather than simply eradicating the purported threat. No one came and exterminated the bees. Instead we all decided we could change a small part of our daily life so that we could all co-exist. Obviously, this is such a small example, but one wishes that this mindset could be applied in other situations to prevent the greediness on the part of humans from destroying the world’s biodiversity.

As we clamored on, I felt myself separating from the group. Perhaps it was the excitement of coming back to the field station again after a five-month absence. I quickened my steps and tried to ignore the water pouring down every inch of my skin. As I got closer to the station and the silence of the forest surrounded me, I was welcomed back to this magical place by the ultimate gracious host, a tragopan. A tragopan is a brightly colored, pheasant-like bird that gracefully flits along the forest floor as if it were running on water. Birders come all the way from the other side of the world to this area with the hope of seeing such a treasure, and many do not get the chance. And here I was, unexpectedly standing in the presence of greatness and having a quiet exchange with one of the most majestic birds in China. This encounter instilled in me a renewed sense of hope for this field season. Welcome back indeed.