A garden Chosen to alive

Spring has sprung—or at least it’s making an admirable effort. The weather’s warming up, and the birds have clearly received the memo. Their songs are livelier, filling the air with a chorus that ranges from charming to mildly overenthusiastic. In the countryside forests, flocks of birds are busy with high-pitched calls, while the peaceful coo of the Oriental turtle dove does its best to be heard amidst the commotion.

The other day, during a visit to the Former Yasuda Gardens, I spotted an Oriental turtle dove perched proudly atop a tree that a gardener was diligently pruning. Against the backdrop of a white concrete building, the dove looked both regal and slightly bemused—perhaps wondering when its countryside retreat became part of the urban decor. Unlike their city-dwelling cousins who loaf around temple squares or parks with an air of entitlement, these doves originally preferred the tranquility of countryside woods, where their distinctive calls echoed without competition from car horns.

Now, I’m no seasoned birdwatcher—binoculars and khaki vests aren’t really my style—but it does seem that the bird population in urban parks has undergone some changes. Birds that once nested in suburban trees appear to have been gently nudged out, not only by the assertive crows and city-savvy doves but also by ring-necked parakeets. These parakeets, once pampered cage dwellers, have embraced freedom with gusto, establishing thriving suburban colonies. It seems the battle for berries and insects has grown quite competitive in the greenery stakes.

Yet, birds are nothing if not resilient. Take ducks, for example—choosing city ponds as if they’ve carefully reviewed their options on a real estate app. The Former Yasuda Garden, nestled in Ryogoku near the Kokugikan Sumo Wrestling Stadium, offers ponds, green trees, and bushes, providing a surprisingly serene haven despite the urban surroundings. Here, birds find refuge, free from natural predators, though perhaps not from curious onlookers.

Ring-necked parakeets have become suburban success stories, leaving the bustling city behind in search of better foraging grounds. But nature has a way of keeping things interesting, and whether their dominance will endure remains to be seen. Displaced suburban birds now find homes in the city’s narrow green spaces—ponds, canals, and even rooftop gardens bravely clinging to patches of greenery.

While I am neither an ornithologist nor a dinosaur expert (though I do excel at trivia nights), I find it fascinating that after the great extinction event, some dinosaur descendants simply decided to reinvent themselves as birds.

A duck that has chosen a pond with greens to stay, even in metropolis. The Former Yasuda Garden is located in Ryogoku, Sumida-ku, near the Kokugikan Sumo wrestling stadium. There is no large forest there, but there are ponds, green trees and bushes, and it is free of natural predators of birds.

A small but happy life for each bird. 

To fly when they like to fly, and let them eat what they naturally like to eat.

Each bird, large or small, leads its quiet, joyful life—flying when the mood strikes, feasting on preferred treats, and napping in the shade of a friendly tree. Even when faced with disappearing forests, the challenges of bird flu, or the unpredictable effects of global warming, they adapt with quiet determination.

And I have faith in humanity’s connection to nature. Let’s not choose extinction, shall we?

Thank you for visiting my blog, and for indulging this feathered reflection.