Watching the Black Kite: The Words Before the Comma
Text by Wang Cheng-chih, photos provided by the Forestry Bureau
In any case, under the fiercely blazing sun of Pingtung, the documentary "Watching Over the Black Kite" has had its premiere and formally faced the world.
Were it not for the efforts of Professor Chen Mei-hui of National Pingtung University of Science and Technology in ecotourism along Provincial Highway 24, were it not for Professor Sun Yuan-hsun conveying Lin Hui-shan's dedication to research, were it not for the photographic assistance of two partners, Hsu Shih-min and Yang Chuan-huai, I should never have thought of making such a documentary about the black kite.
Although "Watching Over the Black Kite" is credited to me as producer, my job was nothing more than that of a platter-arranging kitchen helper, displaying each of their efforts within the audiovisual medium; this film absolutely should not and absolutely cannot be counted as my work. The black kite and I share a deep connection, yet for more than twenty years that connection has remained thin and the feeling shallow. Is this film a conclusion? I think not!
Long before I knew the black kite, I knew Professor Shen Chen-chung. It was a damp, cold winter day much like recent ones, and he had brought his students to look at birds under the Huajiang Bridge. At the time we were all novices, never imagining that we would later devote ourselves to the research and conservation of birds of prey. Waimushan in Keelung was the fate that brought us together again because of the black kite. I still remember sitting in the back seat of photography pioneer Chen Yung-fu's three-door sedan, heading to inspect habitat that was about to be destroyed. Liu Ka-shiang's deep anxiety was fully evident in his writing.
A reporter asked: Is this a documentary on the ecological history of the black kite? Of course not! We were merely trying to reveal the beauty of the black kites here, and the equally beautiful people who give to the black kites and watch over them. It is just that time is limited, funding is limited, and my own ability is even more limited; I could only complete the first movement of the symphony, hoping thereby to draw more people's attention to the beauty and ecology of the black kite, especially in this era when any news is always bad news.
Therefore, "Watching Over the Black Kite" is at most a single adjective clause on a blank notebook, able only to leave a comma for everything about the black kite and its future, thereby linking to infinite description. And I firmly believe that even amid blood and tears, more beautiful chapters will remain for friends who are more devoted and more capable than I to write on, word by word, sentence by sentence! If you have the chance to see "Watching Over the Black Kite" and, like me, fall in love with these beautiful birds of prey in the river valleys of Pingtung, please be sure to support them and the people who care for them.
And it is I who am ashamed: in twenty years all I could leave behind was half a sentence. But perhaps one day I will use words I can fully command to continue writing something more! Before the comma, I can write only this much; but after the comma, who knows how many possibilities remain?