A year ago, Wang Zexian would never have expected to spend his commute observing birds. But in late 2024, while photographing along Shanghai’s Huangpu River, he unexpectedly captured an egret and a Siberian gull in his lens. This chance encounter ignited a passion for birdwatching and opened his eyes to the diverse bird species thriving in the urban environment.

“Birding has completely changed my daily rhythm,” said the 30-year-old network engineer, who now regularly posts his bird photography on the lifestyle app Xiaohongshu, known in English as RedNote. Since birds are most active at dawn and dusk, and good light is crucial for photography, he “forced” himself to go to bed and to get up early. His schedule became so regular that it practically revolved around sunrise.

He began by casually observing birds from his balcony and around his residential area. On one occasion, he identified over a dozen distinct species of varying sizes and plumage colors within his compound.

Now, with upgraded gear and a growing online following, Wang structures his days around early morning and evening walks, often clocking tens of thousands of steps in search of avian life.

Wang is far from alone. Across China’s cities, social media has enhanced birding’s visibility, community, and appeal. In late March, A-list Chinese actor Li Xian posted birding photographs on the microblogging platform Weibo, sparking a shout-out from China’s Ministry of Ecology and Environment — and emulation among many budding enthusiasts.

Birdwatching-related posts on Xiaohongshu have exploded. In the past year alone, the number of posts is 1.2 times that of the previous decade combined, with over 1 billion views on “birding” content, according to the platform’s Birding Trend Report published in April. In group chats and algorithm-curated feeds, casual observers share sightings, swap species bulletins, and coordinate weekend trips to birding hotspots.

For Wang, what began as self-expression has evolved into advocacy. “I’ve had followers tell me that my content helped them find healing — a feeling that tracks with the spiritual healing I’ve gained from these little birds. It has also played a role in encouraging more people to pay attention to the ecology around them.”

And it’s not just the number of fans that is changing — it’s also the demographics. According to the Birding Trend Report, on Xiaohongshu, where birding used to be dominated by 35-year-old nature enthusiasts, today’s content creators skew closer to 25.

This is confirmed by Zhao Tiantian, a birding news editor at the Shanghai Wild Bird Society whose job involves compiling monthly birdwatching records from volunteers, birding apps, and managing several birding groups on Xiaohongshu, where he says online discussions often lead to offline friendships.

Zhao has observed a clear rise in birdwatching interest, noting significant shifts in the community’s makeup. The hobby, once dominated by urban, highly educated professionals, now attracts a younger crowd, while older enthusiasts gravitate toward bird photography.

“Bird photographers often chase ‘frame-worthy shots’ whereas birdwatchers prioritize scientific engagement over image quality — a simple record shot is good enough,” Zhao said.

While the Shanghai Wild Bird Society hasn’t developed youth-specific programming, its events already attract mostly under-45 participants, with university students constituting the core crowd.

As more young people take up birding, they’re also reshaping the culture itself. For urbanites lacking the time to travel to the countryside, the idea is straightforward: find a corner of the city — the balcony of your home, a nearby park, or even your corporate campus — and visit it often.

“By doing this, people are surprised to discover that birds are everywhere if they pay enough attention,” said Zhao. “They may gain the joy of spotting and positively identifying a species for the first time in the process.”

The aesthetic shift is also notable. While older generations often pursue highly stylized bird photography resembling that of traditional Chinese bird-and-flower paintings, younger birders embrace whimsy, abstraction, and irreverence. “Many young people just really love birds’ butts,” Wang laughed. “It’s adorable and hilarious. My older birding friends would delete that kind of photo.”

Still, the humor isn’t without awareness. Both Zhao and Wang mentioned how birding opens a window onto urban environmental issues. From park construction to river dredging, many birders become attuned to the human impact on their feathered neighbors.

“Once you care about these creatures, you naturally want to protect their habitat,” said Wang.

Shanghai’s parks have begun implementing proactive bird protection measures. These include the establishment of breeding zones for owls in the city’s northern, Huangpu River-adjacent Binjiang Forest Park in July, and the rapid response to cordon off a woodpecker nesting site in Pudong New Area’s Century Park in May.

Back online, Zhao is confident the birding trend has staying power. “In the beginning, birdwatchers may be fervent — seeing some rare bird (on social media), then immediately hailing a taxi to go see it,” he said. “But after a while, birdwatching gradually blends into daily life, becoming a way of living.”

Editor: Tom Arnstein.

(Header image: 500px)