【導(dǎo)讀】2月下旬，紐約一只名叫弗拉科（Flaco）的貓頭鷹不幸離世，引發(fā)媒體廣泛關(guān)注，紐約市民紛紛化身觀鳥人和愛鳥人，通過多種方式悼念這只帶給他們快樂和啟發(fā)的傳奇的鳥。一個(gè)月后，在地球另一面，斑鳩和布谷的啼叫喚醒沉睡的北京，大街小巷的人們通過這種獨(dú)特的聲音建立起與悠久傳統(tǒng)的連結(jié)，也暢想起“人與自然和諧共生的中國(guó)式現(xiàn)代化”。

在南半球的大都市悉尼，鳥與城市的關(guān)系又呈現(xiàn)出另一番景象。這座集海岸、港灣、河流、森林為一體的“翡翠城”是各類本土鳥和外來鳥的天堂。譯者仍清晰記得，若干年前初到悉尼時(shí)，曾把烏鴉錯(cuò)聽成啼哭的嬰兒，把笑翠鳥錯(cuò)聽成狂笑的醉漢；在室外餐桌用餐時(shí)，不知名的小鳥落到桌上，若無其事地分享我的午餐，而幾只我誤認(rèn)為白鶴的大鳥就在垃圾桶邊上徘徊。

達(dá)米安·凱夫這篇文章標(biāo)題里的“悉尼宜鳥”絕非虛言。讀完這篇文章，我們會(huì)進(jìn)一步了解到：笑翠鳥固然調(diào)皮、聒噪，但對(duì)于家庭和孩子卻意義重大，還是一夫一妻的典范；被人們稱為“垃圾鳥”的白鹮其實(shí)走過了一段非凡的環(huán)境適應(yīng)歷程；而公園里的各種鳥兒帶給老年朋友們的快樂超出我們的想象……

鳥與城市的關(guān)系之所以重要且有趣味，是因?yàn)樗粏问巧鷳B(tài)環(huán)境問題，更關(guān)乎現(xiàn)代都市人的心靈需要和詩(shī)意寄托，代表著人們對(duì)于城市共同生活的美好想象，從一個(gè)終極的意義看，也象征著人類對(duì)于地球家園的一份溫情。

The bushy pair of laughing kookaburras that used to show up outside my daughter’s bedroom window disappeared a few months ago.

幾個(gè)月前，經(jīng)常出現(xiàn)在我女兒臥室窗外的一對(duì)羽毛濃密的笑翠鳥突然不見了。

The birds simply vanished—after rudely waking us every morning with their maniacal “koo-koo-kah-KAH-KAH” call， after my kids named them Ferrari and Lamborghini， after we learned that kookaburras mate for life.

它們就這樣憑空消失了——在每天早晨用瘋狂的“呼呼——哈哈哈——”叫聲毫不客氣地將我們吵醒之后，在我的孩子們給它們?nèi)∶ɡ吞m博基尼之后，在我們了解到笑翠鳥屬于配偶終生相伴的鳥類之后。

And here’s the odd thing： I missed them.

然而奇怪的是，我開始想念它們。

This is not normal， at least not for me， but Sydney has a rare superpower： It turns urbanites into bird people， and birds into urbanites. Few other cities of its size （five million and counting） can even come close to matching Sydney’s still-growing population of bold， adaptable and brightly colored squawkers.

這并不尋常，至少對(duì)我來說不尋常，但悉尼有種罕見的超能力：它能將城市居民變成愛鳥人，將鳥類變成城市居民。在與悉尼規(guī)模（500萬人口且仍在增長(zhǎng)）相近的城市中，幾乎沒有哪個(gè)地方比得上悉尼的鳥類數(shù)量，這里的鳥兒膽大、適應(yīng)能力強(qiáng)、色彩鮮艷、種群數(shù)量仍在增長(zhǎng)。

“We’ve got a lot of large conspicuous native birds that are doing well and that is very unusual globally，” said Richard Major， the principal research scientist in ornithology for the Australian Museum in Sydney. “It’s quite different in other cities around the world.”

“我們有許多體型大、辨識(shí)度高的本地鳥，它們生活得很好，這在全球范圍都很少見，”位于悉尼的澳大利亞博物館的鳥類學(xué)首席研究科學(xué)家理查德·梅杰表示，“與世界其他城市大不一樣?！?/p>

The reasons—some natural， others man-made—are fascinating， and we’ll get to them. But lest anyone doubt Mr. Major’s assertion， at a time when the bird population of North America is suffering a steep decline， compare a typical day of avian interactions in Sydney with anywhere else.

其中的原因——有自然的，也有人為的——都很有趣，我們會(huì)逐一了解到。但在這樣一個(gè)北美鳥類數(shù)量急劇下降的時(shí)候，為了避免有人質(zhì)疑梅杰先生的說法，我們不妨將悉尼鳥類普通一天的活動(dòng)與其他任何地方做個(gè)比較。

Morning here begins with a chorus. Relentlessly chirpy， the noisy miner blasts the alarm before dawn alongside the screeching and flapping of rainbow lorikeets， parrots brighter than Magic Markers and that argue like toddlers. And of course， there are the kookaburras， with their cackles carrying across neighborhoods declaring： “This is MY territory！”

悉尼之晨始于百鳥齊鳴。黎明前，聒噪礦鳥便開始不停地吱吱喳喳，與彩虹鸚鵡的尖叫聲和拍翅聲一同組成響亮的鬧鐘，這種鸚鵡的羽毛比魔術(shù)筆還鮮亮，它們會(huì)像頑童一樣爭(zhēng)吵。當(dāng)然，還有笑翠鳥，它們的笑聲響徹社區(qū)，宣示著：“這是我的地盤！”

A walk to the car or train may require dodging attacking magpies—in spring， they swoop down on your head to protect their young—and rarely does a week go by without seeing a sulphur-crested cockatoo， or a dozen， spinning on a wire like an escaped circus act.

步行到汽車旁或火車站可能需要閃躲喜鵲的襲擊——春天，為了保護(hù)幼鳥，它們會(huì)俯沖到你的頭頂——而且很少有一星期見不到一只或十幾只葵花鳳頭鸚鵡在電線上旋轉(zhuǎn)的樣子，就像從馬戲團(tuán)逃出后在表演。

Even the local scavenger is extraordinary. As grubby as any New York pigeon but much grander， the white ibis， known here as a “bin chicken，” is a hefty， prehistoric-looking creature with a curved beak.

甚至本地的食腐鳥類也絕非俗物。白鹮在這里被稱為“垃圾鳥”，和紐約市的鴿子一樣邋遢，但體型卻要壯碩得多，是一種有著史前外觀的彎喙大鳥。

It’s a remarkable mix.

這真是一種奇特的混搭。

Even as ornithologists point out that some small birds are struggling in the city， they note that a generation or two ago， Sydney didn’t have nearly as much avian diversity as it does today， nor as many flocks of birds that have mastered what city living requires： competitiveness， an obsession with real estate and the ability to adapt.

雖然鳥類學(xué)家指出一些小型鳥類在悉尼處境艱難，但他們也指出，一兩代人以前，悉尼的鳥類還沒有今天這么多樣，也沒有這么多掌握了城市生活秘訣的鳥類種群，這些秘訣包括競(jìng)爭(zhēng)力、對(duì)建筑物的喜好和適應(yīng)能力。

Why so many birds are thriving here is increasingly a subject of international study. Scientists believe it is due in part to how Sydney was settled—relatively recently， compared with many global cities， with less intrusion into wildlife habitats.

為什么這么多鳥類在這里繁衍生息，這日益成為一個(gè)國(guó)際研究的課題?？茖W(xué)家們認(rèn)為，部分原因是悉尼的定居方式——與許多全球性城市相比，悉尼的定居時(shí)間相對(duì)較晚，對(duì)野生動(dòng)物棲息地的入侵程度相應(yīng)也輕一些。

The luck of local terrain has helped. Sydney’s rocky coastline didn’t lend itself to clearing land for agriculture， which slowed development and left lots of native plants untouched. Australia’s early leaders also set up large national parks near Sydney， protecting bushland for animals of all kinds.

得天獨(dú)厚的地形地貌也起了作用。悉尼巖石密布的海岸不適合農(nóng)墾，這使得土地開發(fā)速度減緩，大量本土植物得以保存。澳大利亞的早期領(lǐng)導(dǎo)者還在悉尼周邊劃設(shè)大面積的國(guó)家公園，從而保護(hù)了各類動(dòng)物賴以棲息的原始林區(qū)。

But making the city a bird capital was probably not on their agenda. The British colonialists in charge hated the sound of Sydney’s birds enough to import songbirds like common starlings to soothe their tender ears.

但使這座城市變成鳥都或許不在他們的計(jì)劃之列。英國(guó)殖民者當(dāng)局對(duì)悉尼的鳥叫聲厭惡得無以復(fù)加，為了安慰自己敏感的耳朵，他們引進(jìn)了諸如普通椋鳥一類的鳴禽。

Today， some early examples of those imports， from the 1860s， are stuffed and tagged in the Australian Museum’s collection room. When I stopped by one recent morning， Leah Tsang， the museum’s ornithology collection manager， sifted through the white metal cabinets containing the taxidermy archives to show me the supposed improvement sent from Europe.

如今，一些1860年代引進(jìn)的早期鳥種被做成標(biāo)本存放在澳大利亞博物館的收藏室里。不久前一個(gè)早晨，我去參觀了該博物館。鳥類收藏管理員利婭·曾在一個(gè)個(gè)白色的金屬柜子里查找標(biāo)本檔案，她想向我展示來自歐洲的所謂改良品種。

The juvenile starlings in the tray looked small， dark and… dull.

盤子里的幼年椋鳥看上去又小又黑……羽色暗淡。

A few cabinets over， Dr. Tsang showed me her own favorite bird—the princess parrot， a lovely Australian specimen of soft pastels， in pink， blue and green.

走過幾個(gè)這樣的柜子，曾博士向我展示了她最喜歡的鳥——公主鸚鵡，那是一只可愛的澳大利亞鸚鵡的標(biāo)本，有著柔和的粉、藍(lán)、綠三色羽。

If the young starling’s feathers evoked the lackluster mood of a Benjamin Disraeli portrait， the princess parrot was Elton John.

如果說幼年椋鳥的羽毛讓人想起本杰明·迪斯雷利肖像畫的沉悶，那么這只公主鸚鵡就是艾爾頓·約翰。

“I had one as a pet when I was a kid，” said Dr. Tsang， 40， who sported some bold plumage herself， a shock of electric blue hair in a ponytail. “Its name was Cheeky.”

“我小時(shí)候養(yǎng)過一只作寵物?！爆F(xiàn)年40的曾博士說，她身上就戴著醒目的羽毛配飾，耀眼的電光藍(lán)色頭發(fā)扎成一個(gè)馬尾辮，“它的名字叫小淘氣。”

She told me she came to birds late in life， at least as a career. She worked in technology for nearly a decade before ditching it for the birds.

她告訴我，她投入鳥類研究是后來的事，至少作為職業(yè)是這樣。之前她在技術(shù)領(lǐng)域工作了近十年，為了鳥類放棄了那份工作。

“You want to do something that fulfills you and makes you happy，” she said， standing near a display of little penguins （yes， balmy Sydney has penguins， too）. She paused， and later told me she worried about sounding like a cliché.

“人總是想做些讓自己感到充實(shí)和快樂的事?！彼驹谛∑簌Z展示柜旁說道（是的，溫暖的悉尼也有企鵝）。她停頓一下告訴我，她擔(dān)心自己這話聽上去像陳詞濫調(diào)。

But there’s no need to be ashamed of bird-loving. Not in Sydney.

但愛鳥并不是什么丟人的事。至少在悉尼不是。

That afternoon， I went for a walk in the city’s Centennial Parklands with John Martin， an ornithologist with the University of New South Wales who is working on a project looking at how Sydney’s cockatoos have adapted， learning to open garbage bins and knock on windows to ask people for food.

那天下午，我和新南威爾士大學(xué)的鳥類學(xué)家約翰·馬丁一起去悉尼的百年公園散步，他正在研究葵花鳳頭鸚鵡如何適應(yīng)悉尼的環(huán)境，比如學(xué)會(huì)開垃圾箱和敲擊窗戶向人們索要食物。

We stopped near a wetland in the park’s center. In less than an hour， we saw 20 species of birds—and old friends， Ann Birrell and Carol Bunton， who are park regulars.

我們?cè)诠珗@中央的一塊濕地附近停下來。在不到1小時(shí)的時(shí)間里，我們看見了20種鳥——還看見了我們的老朋友安·比勒爾和卡羅爾·邦頓，他們都是公園的?？?。

They surprised me with their knowledge of not just kinds of birds， but individual ones—two owls that had nested in an oak; a tawny frogmouth they had gotten to know; and the corellas flying overhead， pecking， wrestling and mating in the trees.

讓我吃驚的是，他們不僅熟識(shí)鳥的種類，對(duì)個(gè)體也能娓娓道來——兩只在橡樹上筑巢的貓頭鷹；一只他們才認(rèn)識(shí)的茶色蟆口鴟；還有從頭頂飛過，在樹上啄食、搏斗和交配的白色鳳頭鸚鵡。

“There are ménages à trois，” observed Ms. Bunton， a retiree walking with a cane， nodding toward the corellas. “We’re interested in their behavior.”

“這里有一些三角戀關(guān)系。”拄拐杖的退休老人邦頓女士向著白色鳳頭鸚鵡點(diǎn)頭說道，“我們對(duì)它們的行為很感興趣?！?/p>

Dr. Martin walked us over to one of the ponds where ducks and other birds gather. He pointed out a white ibis with a yellow plastic number tag on its wing. “That’s Lennie，” he said.

馬丁博士帶我們來到一個(gè)池塘邊，那里聚集著鴨子和其他鳥類。他指著一只翅膀上系著黃色塑料號(hào)牌的白鹮說：“那是倫尼?！?/p>

Lennie had been tagged as part of a study aiming to understand why Sydney seemed to have so many of these so-called bin chickens. The public sees them as a nuisance， but according to Dr. Major at the Australian Museum， they only started to appear in Sydney in the 1970s.

倫尼被標(biāo)記是因?yàn)橐豁?xiàng)研究，人們想知道為什么悉尼有這么多所謂的“垃圾鳥”。公眾認(rèn)為這種鳥很討厭，但澳大利亞博物館的梅杰博士說，1970年代它們才開始出現(xiàn)在悉尼。

Researchers eventually discovered that the white ibis loves carbohydrates， making it a match for a city of fish and chips. But the big birds were also refugees of a sort; they had moved to Sydney because their natural wetland habitat further inland had been dried out by drought and heavy-handed water management.

研究人員最終發(fā)現(xiàn)，白鹮愛吃碳水化合物，這使它們適應(yīng)了炸魚和薯?xiàng)l盛行的城市。但這些大鳥也算是某種意3a81cfc9d5fbfea8c8a7dc1c8f64fc4b3444720b2fa35a170e527b0f22005632義上的逃難者；它們之所以遷徙到悉尼，是因?yàn)楦珊岛瓦^度的水資源管理已經(jīng)使它們?cè)趦?nèi)陸的天然濕地棲息地變得干涸。

“We’re not sure if it’s climate change or not， but what we do know is that the coast has always been a refuge，” Dr. Martin said.

“我們不確定這是否是由于氣候變化，但我們可以確定海岸一直是避難所?！瘪R丁博士說。

Sydney is not ideal for all. Tiny birds like the superb fairy-wren， with its bright blue markings， seem to be declining because they need brambles and weeds to hide in， and urbanization tends to cut that away.

悉尼也不是所有鳥兒的天堂。一些小型鳥類的種群數(shù)似乎正在減少，比如有鮮藍(lán)色斑狀羽毛的壯麗細(xì)尾鷯鶯，因?yàn)檫@些鳥類需要隱藏在黑莓灌木叢和雜草中，而城市化往往會(huì)破壞這些植被。

But for larger and more territorial birds， Sydney is quite comfortable home.

但是對(duì)于體型更大、更有領(lǐng)地意識(shí)的鳥兒，悉尼則是非常舒適的家園。

At one point in the park， we walked by a group of parrots with bright pink heads. They were galahs， which has become slang for lovable doofus. They didn’t make a sound， nor did they mind me getting within inches of them.

在公園里某個(gè)地方，我們路過一群亮粉色頭的鸚鵡。它們名叫g(shù)alah（粉紅鳳頭鸚鵡），該詞已成為俚語，意思是可愛的笨蛋。它們沒發(fā)出任何動(dòng)靜，也不介意我湊近。

Many of Sydney’s birds seem to like their human neighbors. Scientists have determined magpies can form friendships with people. Cockatoos are highly social， too.

悉尼的許多鳥兒似乎都喜歡它們的人類鄰居?？茖W(xué)家已經(jīng)確定，喜鵲能與人類結(jié)成友誼。葵花鳳頭鸚鵡也是高度喜好社交的鳥。

I was wondering if the same was true for kookaburras， and then， as I was finishing this article， Ferrari and Lamborghini returned. They showed up just before dark and took their perch near my daughter’s window. They nuzzled. They screeched their unique good night and good morning. It’s quite a racket. But we’re hoping they stay.

我想知道笑翠鳥是否也是如此，這時(shí)，就在我快要寫完這篇文章時(shí)，法拉利和蘭博基尼回來了。它們?cè)谝鼓唤蹬R前的一刻出現(xiàn)，落在我女兒的窗戶旁。它們相互依偎著，發(fā)出特有的晚安和早安的尖叫聲。這是不小的一陣喧囂。但我們都希望它們別再離開。

（譯者單位：北京語言大學(xué)）