In November 1989, Chinese farmer Hou Tiguo was hunting birds with a slingshot near his home in Baihualing, a remote village in subtropical Yunnan province, when a chance encounter changed his life.
He met two tourists from Taiwan who offered to pay him to show them wild birds. Hou accepted, and by the end of the day they had seen 160 bird species.
The tourists told Hou that if the villagers stopped hunting birds, many more people would come to see them. Birdwatching was almost unknown in China at that time. But word of Baihualing’s rich birdlife spread, visitors did begin to arrive, and Hou became one of the country’s first bird guides. For two decades, he supplemented his farming income by guiding, until he had an idea that would bring birdwatchers – and money – pouring into his community.
Hou had noticed birds visiting a puddle created by a leaky pipe. Using corn stalks, he built a crude shelter, barely big enough for two people, and began charging birdwatchers CNY 20 (USD 2.80) each to use it. ‘Hide-in-bird-pond’ tourism was born. Before long, Hou had created several artificial ponds, with more sophisticated and spacious hides. Other villagers followed his lead, transforming Baihualing’s economy.
Today, more than 250 hide-in-bird-ponds operate across China, with scope for many more – according to a new nationwide assessment. Its authors say they offer significant potential to boost rural incomes and protect biodiversity, but warn that unregulated growth could bring ecological and socioeconomic risks.
A new model of birdwatching
The set-up is simple. Operators provide shallow pools of water and food such as fruit or insect larvae. Birds arrive to feed, drink and bathe. Nearby, birdwatchers and photographers wait in camouflaged hides, often just metres away, for close-up views of the birds. At some sites, meals are delivered, so clients don’t need to leave.
“Whenever possible, we take our guests to bird hides,” says Summer Wong, who runs Summer Wong China Bird Tours which is based in Sichuan. “[Hides] allow them to observe certain target species that are otherwise very difficult to see in the wild, quickly and efficiently. Such wildlife-focused tourism provides a valuable source of income for local communities, encouraging them to protect the birds rather than hunt them.”
Baihualing was an ideal place for the model to take off. The village sits at 1,400 metres on the eastern slope of Gaoligong Mountain, part of a mountain range that has one of the world’s greatest concentrations of bird species. The village is a gateway to the forested slopes of the Gaoligongshan National Nature Reserve, an important area for biodiversity. Around Baihualing itself, 474 bird species have been documented.
Birdfinders, a UK-based tour company, says on its website that Baihualing’s ponds attract a “dazzling array” of birds, including laughing thrushes, scimitar babblers, sibias and minivets. “The views here are far superior to anything we could hope for along the trails,” it notes.
Baihualing’s boom
Before bird ponds, Baihualing was impoverished, with per-capita incomes of about CNY 3,000 (USD 430) in 2008. By the early 2020s, incomes had more than quadrupled. But as birdwatching took off, the number of ponds grew rapidly, reaching more than 70. A case study published in 2024 by Yunnan’s Department of Natural Resources describes how local authorities intervened to standardise operations and reduce pond numbers, leaving around two dozen higher-quality sites.
Today, thousands of birdwatchers visit Baihualing each year, stimulating a wider seasonal economy of guesthouses, restaurants, transport services and cultural activities. The case study estimated that tourism engaged a third of the village’s population and generated more than CNY 8 million (USD 1.1 million) in annual revenue, while also contributing to a reduction in poaching and indiscriminate logging.
A key innovation has been a village-level benefit-sharing system. Previously, tensions arose between farmers who wanted to clear forest for crops and bird pond operators who wanted trees left standing. Now, revenue from bird pond tickets – currently CNY 70 each (USD 9.8) – is distributed among bird pond owners and other groups of villagers, under an agreed formula.
“It unites all villagers to take collective actions to protect birds,” says Xinran Wang of the Shenzhen College of International Education, whose research on the Baihualing birdwatching industry was published in October 2025.
“Everyone has the incentive to remain in the organisation: bird pond owners can sustain their profits without obstacles from farmers; other villagers can receive extra dividends,” she told Dialogue Earth. “This formed a cycle to continuously bring positive effects.”
Baihualing’s trajectory underscores both the promise of bird-pond tourism – and the risks that emerge when expansion outpaces regulation.
A national phenomenon
Hide-in-bird-pond tourism has spread rapidly across China, often built around “star” bird species. In Yunnan, Shiti village entices visitors with three species of hornbills. In Qinling, Shaanxi province, birdwatchers flock to see the endangered crested ibis. In Mangba villag, Yunnan, a population of 300 Derbyan parakeets attracts many tourists. In December 2025, China Daily cited reporting by China Green Times that bird tourism there generates over CNY 4 million (USD 560,000) a year in the village of just 250 residents.
But the industry has grown organically, without national guidelines, formal oversight or science-based standards. Concerns include the possible ecological impacts of supplemental feeding and the risk of disease transmission, both among birds and between birds and people. A lack of comprehensive monitoring means it is impossible to tell if, overall, the bird ponds are positive or negative for biodiversity.
These gaps prompted Fei Wu of the Kunming Institute of Zoology and colleagues to undertake the first nationwide assessment of hide-in-bird-ponds, published in the March 2026 edition of Avian Research. By analysing online birdwatching forums, they identified 251 hide-in-bird-ponds across 24 provinces, and interviewed all 98 people operating them.
The assessment found that a total of 524 bird species – about one-third of China’s avifauna – have been recorded at these sites, including 152 species classified as threatened or protected. Most ponds (87%) are in economically deprived areas, and nearly three-quarters are within five kilometres of a national park or other protected area.
Wu and colleagues say this highlights the potential of bird-pond tourism to both address poverty and conserve biodiversity, particularly in regions “where ecological priorities and socioeconomic needs intersect.” With 40% of China’s hide-in-bird-ponds located in Yunnan, Wu’s team says there is considerable scope for expansion, especially in other areas with high bird diversity such as Guangxi, Guizhou, Inner Mongolia and Xizang.
Demand is also rising. The number of birdwatchers in China has grown from an estimated 600 in 2000 to 340,000 in 2023. As Wu and colleagues note, this is still less than 0.03% of China’s population.
Risks and regulation
“It is exciting to see this expansion in community-based avitourism in China facilitating connection with nature along with all its wellbeing benefits, and hopefully driving more pro-environmental behaviours among participants,” says Alexander Lees, Reader in Biodiversity at Manchester Metropolitan University. “The benefits for the birds themselves are less clear.”
Lees warns that a proliferation of feeding stations could increase disease transmission or raise predation risk. “It is unclear if these ventures lead to more substantial additional habitat protection,” he adds.
Xinran Wang’s research in Baihualing revealed that some bird pond owners lack knowledge of birds or attempt to discourage common species in favour of more profitable “star birds”. She also documented anecdotal accounts of some birds changing their behaviour or becoming desensitised to people.
“The most urgent step is formal legislation to ensure birds are safe while still leaving villagers some freedom to make profits,” says Wang. Training, she adds, could prevent unintentional harm caused by a lack of awareness.
Bird pond management relies largely on operator experience, says Wu. His team is now developing local standards for constructing and operating ponds and hides. They are also researching the ecological impacts of operations.
The researchers call for national standards and ethical guidelines, formal regulatory oversight with a registry of ponds, systematic monitoring and policy incentives to balance regional development. Without such measures, they warn, rapid and unstructured growth could undermine the principles of ecotourism and threaten the model’s sustainability.
The future of China’s bird-pond tourism, the scientists say, depends on turning grassroots innovations into a system with clear standards and safeguards. But Wu remains optimistic.
“I personally hold great confidence in the potential of hide-in-bird-pond to advance biodiversity conservation and poverty alleviation efforts in China,” he told Dialogue Earth.
“The number of birdwatchers in China will continue to grow, the birdwatching market will expand, and the income of hide-in-bird-pond operators will gradually increase. This will incentivise operators to proactively protect birds and their habitats.”
