Zongzhuang Birding

After concluding the seminar at the University of Colombo, Professor Sampath was busy with school tasks before the holiday, so I couldn’t stay long. We briefly discussed some research work and then bid each other a hasty farewell. Just before I left, Sampath recommended a birding spot in Colombo. “Once you go here, you will definitely see 40-50 species and get eight lifers!” He said confidently. I felt suspicious but curious and asked him to show me the location. He dropped a pin on my phone’s map, which displayed as “Diyasaru Park.”

According to the official website of Diyasaru Park (diyasarupark.lk), the name comes from Sinhala and means “rich in water.” It is an artificial wetland park located east of downtown Colombo. It took me about half an hour to get to the park from the university by taxi. When I arrived, it was nearly 17:00, just one hour before sunset. As soon as I got out of the car, a large flock of House Crows surrounded me——probably the most common bird species in Sri Lanka. I walked directly to the park gate but was stopped by a security guard, who informed me that I needed to buy a ticket. I had to backtrack to a hidden ticket booth I had missed and bought a ticket for 500 rupees.

The entire park consists of several islands with options for boat rides. It is thoughtfully designed, with numerous well-designed educational displays about local wildlife and wetland ecosystems. Yet, apparently, it seems to be just a leisure and photo spot for most locals. Passing the entrance, I ran into a group taking wedding photos.

As I walked along the path, I spotted an old friend—a white-bellied Drongo perching at a branch. The last time I saw it was four years ago in Chitwan, high in the monsoon forest canopy. Here, however, it was only a few meters from me. Most of the birds in the park seemed tame, and the drongo was no exception—it didn’t even bother to fly away as I approached. It appears that the people of Colombo have a relatively friendly relationship with the birds here.

I noticed the grass by the roadside started rustling, suggesting a slightly larger bird was moving through it. I raised my binoculars for a better view and spotted a crake’s head poking out of the grass. Instinctively, I recognized it right away—the White-breasted Waterhen. I was a bit disappointed, as I had seen this bird so many times. Not long after, a babbler’s noise filled the air. Soon, the park’s most common residents, the Yellow-billed Babblers, appeared. I met both the two species dozens of times within an hour. I was amazed by this high density.

My gaze shifted to the woods, where a male Black-hooded Oriole was perched on a branch. Despite never seeing one this close, these birds are extremely common in Colombo. I held my breath and quietly snapped a few shots with my camera. When I tried to change position for another angle of shots, the oriole swooped straight into the bushes behind. I searched the bushes for a while, only to find some Red-vented Bulbuls replaced the oriole.

Turning back, I realized I was in an area of flowering plants. Following a series of dry, ticking calls nearby, I tracked down the source: the Purple-rumped Sunbird, which I had only heard a few days earlier. They were so close that my camera couldn’t focus. As I stepped back, they immediately disappeared.

The park had grown eerily quiet. With little time left, I hurried to the water’s edge, only to find a lone Little Cormorant and nothing else. After a while, the silence was broken by the slightly nasal screech of a Rose-ringed Parakeet—the last time I heard that call was in the Netherlands.  If the House Crow is the most common bird in Colombo, then the Rose-ringed Parakeet undoubtedly comes in second. Unlike European-introduced populations, the parakeets here are native, meaning the locals must have listened to this noisy call for thousands of years. I remember that in Kathmandu, both Alexandrine and Rose-ringed Parakeets are common, but only the latter are frequently seen here.

The sky had shifted from cloudy to overcast, and the light rapidly deteriorated, so I picked up the pace. According to the sign, there is a birdwatching tower, which is probably a good choice for waterbirds. I started heading to the bird tower. When I passed a small garden, I heard a flurry of wings. The garden’s gate was closed, with a fence barely reaching my calf. Following the sound, I spotted a Gray-headed Swamphen desperately trying to squeeze through a gap in the fence to rejoin its group. However, every time it tried to pass the gap, it got stuck, failing repeatedly. Clearly, a small climb or a gentle hop would get it over the fence, but the swamphen wanted to keep its strategy. It had already attracted a small crowd of onlookers. I briefly considered helping it but quickly realized that wouldn’t be wise. I trust the bird would realize its stupid way wouldn’t work and then decide to fly to pass the fence. All I could do was wish it luck.

Leaving the swamphen behind, I continued along the path. At the end of the boardwalk, a three-story birdwatching tower stood in the middle of the wetland. Getting to the tower’s top floor, I finally got a panoramic view of the wetland. Scanning the canopy, I saw only the usual suspects: House Crows, Rose-ringed Parakeets, and Little Cormorants flying about, and only a White-throated Kingfisher was perching at the top of the tree. Hearing a splash below, I looked down to the right side and saw a Lesser Whistling-Duck bathing in the water. Here was another one perched on a branch above it. The duck on the branch made a sharp whistle, not the typical “quack” one might expect from a duck. I then understood why these ducks are called “Whistling Ducks” in English.

Another tree’s canopy was shaking—seemingly from a large bird. But as a dark figure emerged without a clear tail, its wingbeats looked unusual. I thought it must be a flying fox, as I had seen it frequently during my stay in Colombo, and soon confirmed that by my bins. It flew to a tree on the other side and then hung upside down to feed, an awkward sight to me. Flying foxes became active in the afternoons and were often spotted even in urban areas. They have a much more powerful flight than House Crows. They usually serve as distractions during birdwatching, making them one of the few mammals that catch my attention.

Beneath the birdwatching tower, there was a pond. When I was there, nothing was in the pond, but a sign depicted an otter entering the water—perhaps, with enough patience, one could see an otter here.

I stood quietly on the birdwatching tower for a while, and gradually, more birds flew by. In the distance, I spotted an Indian Jungle Crow (the culminatus subspecies of the Large-billed Crow) and a Purple Heron. An oversized silhouette in the sky—probably an Asian Openbill? An Intermediate Egret flew by in front of the distant skyscrapers of Colombo and was so far that I needed to use the camera to identify it. For the soundscapes,  I could hear the sharp call of a common kingfisher, “koo-koo-koo-koo…”  came from the South Asian accent of a Greater Coucal and the gradually intensifying wail of the Asian Koel. Standing alone in a birdwatching tower and listening to birdsong nostalgically reminded me of my old days in Uppsala. When I was at the birdwatching tower at Årike Fyris, waiting for the summer symphony of Acrocephalus warblers and Locustella warblers or the spring and autumn masses of geese, ducks, and shorebirds. The sky remained overcast here, but the wind on my face had changed from the biting northern chill to a gentle Ceylonese breeze. Not only has that birdwatching experience faded into the past, but the friends I had then and the youthful days we once wasted have also gone far away. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of melancholy.

The park would close at 18:00, and it was already 17:30. The light was slowly fading, and I started to head back. I glanced at the Lesser Whistling-Ducks, which had grown to a flock of ten. A piercing scream came from the left, but I saw nothing else besides a White-throated Kingfisher making a brief aerial display.

After passing two palms, a massive silhouette appeared in the pond along the roadside—about the size of a Mute Swan. In Colombo, there was only one candidate: a Spot-billed Pelican! I had never encountered a wild pelican this close before.

Thrilled but cautious, I sneaked to it silently in case I spooked it. In Thailand, this species would take off when I got within tens of meters. As I set up my camera on the ground, still praying it wouldn’t fly away, the pelican surprisingly started moving directly toward me, slowly and steadily. Its bulky body moved powerfully, like a warship. Soon, my full-frame 600mm lens couldn’t fit its entire form.

It was absolutely stunning! Every barb of its feathers was visible, and it felt like time had paused. The pelican opened its large bill and scoped toward me, splashing water everywhere. Afterward, it slowly turned sideways, leisurely drifting in the pond.

Eventually, it flapped its wings a few times before clumsily taking off. It was only then that I noticed someone was approaching. “Get good photos?” Said the security guard who had earlier directed me to buy a ticket. The guard asked if I was Japanese. It made sense—even I can’t tell the nationality of East Asian people by appearance.  We then chatted a bit. The guard suggested, “If you like birds, you should come in the morning. There are many more, then.”

On my way back, the stubborn Gray-headed Swamphen was no longer at the fence. There were more swamphens by the water now, chattering noisily, and I even glimpsed two of them in a fierce fight, probably for territory. The light continued to dim, and more birds emerged to forage on the ground. In addition to the countless White-breasted Waterhens, there were more swamphens and the Red-wattled lapwings. While these lapwings are typically found in farmlands in China, they seem to be the typical urban birds in South Asia, feeding on garbage and other human lefts such as the Common Mynas and House Crows. Perhaps we should call them “house lapwings.” Even a few squirrels had joined in the trash scavenging.

When I was about to leave the park, hundreds of birds flew overhead, probably heading toward their night roosts. In addition to House Crows and Rose-ringed Parakeets, there were also many Black-headed Ibises—surprisingly more common than egrets here. I also spotted Indian Pond Herons, Night Herons, and various egrets, mostly flying solely. In the distant sky, a Brahminy Kite hovered, bringing my birdwatching hour at Diyasaru Park to an end.

The moon was rising above the horizon, and it was now 18:00. I spent roughly one hour in Diyasaru Park for birding that day. Even counting the Feral Pigeons, I had spotted fewer than 30 species in one hour.  But the birding experience here was pleasant. There is no rush, no targets, and no rarities, but only a leisurely stroll along the boardwalks and trails through the wetland. Then, I saw a fantastic scene of birds and other wildlife living in harmony, as well as well-designed educational signs and friendly people. When I have another to revisit Colombo, I’ll visit here again.

The Chinese version of this blog 中文版本链接 https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/xtTBS03Tl30Y3VS3lo54EQ

Index of the species name (Scientific, Mandarin and English)

Dendrocygna javanica	栗树鸭	Lesser Whistling-Duck
Columba livia (Feral Pigeon)	家鸽	Rock Pigeon (Feral Pigeon)
Spilopelia chinensis	珠颈斑鸠	Spotted Dove
Centropus sinensis parroti	褐翅鸦鹃（parroti）	Greater Coucal (Southern)
Eudynamys scolopaceus	噪鹃	Asian Koel
Porphyrio poliocephalus	紫水鸡	Gray-headed Swamphen
Amaurornis phoenicurus	白胸苦恶鸟	White-breasted Waterhen
Vanellus indicus	肉垂麦鸡	Red-wattled Lapwing
Microcarbo niger	黑颈鸬鹚	Little Cormorant
Pelecanus philippensis	斑嘴鹈鹕	Spot-billed Pelican
Nycticorax nycticorax	夜鹭	Black-crowned Night Heron
Egretta garzetta	白鹭	Little Egret
Ardeola grayii	印度池鹭	Indian Pond-Heron
Ardea intermedia	中白鹭	Medium Egret
Ardea purpurea	草鹭	Purple Heron
Threskiornis melanocephalus	黑头白鹮	Black-headed Ibis
Haliastur indus	栗鸢	Brahminy Kite
Alcedo atthis	普通翠鸟	Common Kingfisher
Halcyon smyrnensis	白胸翡翠	White-throated Kingfisher
Psilopogon zeylanicus	棕头绿拟啄木鸟	Brown-headed Barbet
Psittacula krameri	红领绿鹦鹉	Rose-ringed Parakeet
Oriolus xanthornus	黑头黄鹂	Black-hooded Oriole
Corvus splendens	家鸦	House Crow
Corvus macrorhynchos culminatus	大嘴乌鸦（印度丛林鸦）	Large-billed Crow (Indian Jungle)
Dicrurus caerulescens	白腹卷尾	White-bellied Drongo
Pycnonotus cafer	黑喉红臀鹎	Red-vented Bulbul
Argya affinis	印度白头鸫鹛	Yellow-billed Babbler
Acridotheres tristis	家八哥	Common Myna
Copsychus saularis	鹊鸲	Oriental Magpie-Robin
Leptocoma zeylonica	紫腰花蜜鸟	Purple-rumped Sunbird
Pteropus giganteus	印度狐蝠	Indian Flying Fox
Funambulus palmarum	印度棕榈松鼠	Indian Palm Squirrel