China -

he wet grasslands and reed beds stretch into the distance, an undulating expanse of flatness broken only by the occasional ridge of trees, or a spiral of smoke rising from a cluster of fishermen's homes. The only movements are those of the wildlife: cranes gliding across the lake, searching out a landing strip amongst the swaying reeds; marsh harriers hovering in anticipation of a meal from the freshly-ploughed fields; and geese on a nearby pool exploding in a cacophonous cry of indignation as the shadow of a kite drifts over the wind-rippled waters. Later, as the sun sets over the broad open land turning the light a soft golden hue filtered by dark rain clouds threatening in the distance, a rainbow appears briefly over the marshy land. And the nightly frog chorus begins.

Earlier in the day I had arrived in Zhalong National Reserve, the largest wetland ecological region in China, situated in the lower drainage basin of the Wuyu Er River. Covering an area of 2,100 square kilometres, it is home to more than 300 bird species, including 9 of the 15 extant species of crane in the world. The main tourism site is a series of nondescript buildings on the western edge of the marshes where I checked into the only, slightly rundown, hotel. On entering the reserve I found a few visitors wandering around the grounds: a young couple on the steps of the education centre and a group of businessmen making their way to the lakeside pavilion to pose for the obligatory photograph. I walked past them, drawn by the sound of bird-life and the rich scent of honey blossom, into the thick of the reserve.

On my way I passed the Zhalong Fishing Pool where common terns dive expertly for fish while geese, ducks and swans waddle clumsily along the banks. A nearby pen houses a dozen of the reserve's most-prized resident, the red-crowned crane, the second rarest species of crane in the world, with only an estimated 1,700 to 2,000 remaining in their East Asian homelands. In a neighbouring pen a white stork, white-headed ibis, white-naped crane, common crane and African Crane sat looking bored. I walked on to the lake's edge, keen to see these creatures in their natural habitat.

At first glance the number of wild birds seems small. I had expected to be immersed in a multitude of flying species, flocks of birds careening through the air, a flurry of feathers in every direction. Not so. A young conservation student from Beijing appeared by my side sharing my disappointed expression. He explained how the birds value their privacy and are driven away by noise from the nearby villages and the tourists taking boat rides, seeking refuge in the centre of the reserve. "This inner sanctum," he said, "is restricted and the government is even moving the local fishermen out of the area in an attempt to preserve the birds' food supply." Noting my downcast look, he attempted to cheer me up by suggesting I follow the path out over the field to the water channel and marshes beyond, where, he said, "I recorded 64 species today, but you must look quietly." I had never looked noisily before, but set off into the watery fields with a lighter step.

I was not to be disappointed. The bird watching zone stretches eight kilometres from north to south and nine kilometres from east to west, covering an area of 1,550 hectares. While this is only 0.7 per cent of the total area of the reserve and many of the park inhabitants feed and rear their young in the relative calm of the restricted zone, it is still possible to view a diverse number of species here. Later, chasing the setting sun back to the hotel, I saw the silhouette of a red-crowned crane standing out against the glowing horizon. Suddenly, the land didn't seem so empty any more.

The next day I awoke to the sound of rain lashing down onto the trees outside my window. Despite this downpour the area has actually been plagued by four consecutive years of drought. Consequently, in 2002 China launched its first campaign to supply water to this shrinking wetland area in the hope of protecting the endangered species of flora and fauna including the Mongolian yellow elm and the red-crowned crane. The aim is to find a balance between sustainable economic development through fishing, farming and tourism, while preserving the biodiversity of the area. Agricultural expansion in and around Zhalong has added to the problems, the subsequent fall in water levels leading to increased quantities of salt in the water, which is then deposited onto the seasonally-flooded land and, in turn, results in lower reed production.

This is not good news for the red-crowned crane, which lives and feeds amongst these reeds. And, with over 1,000 people being employed to harvest the reeds during the winter months – resulting in the clearance of 80 per cent of a marsh area covering 40,000 hectares, – the odds of survival are stacked even higher against them. Disruptions to the delicate ecosystem, and the negative impact on the bird's natural food chain, has resulted in the twenty captive pairs of cranes at the reserve now needing to be fed in a pen.

At the start of each day the birds are released to fly and forage for corn and insects in the meadows, or small fish and aquatic invertebrates in the reedy swamps, returning when the keeper calls them back for a meal of fish caught in a dyked fishpond. Despite the success of the breeding and artificial rearing programme at the centre, the conservation student I met is one of a group of people who feel further measures need to be taken to ensure the safety of not only the red-crowned crane, but other bird species like the oriental white stork and mammals including red foxes, the wolves, mountain weasels, the steppe polecats and the Mongolian gazelle also under threat. "Until such steps are taken," said my student friend, "these animals will slowly be squeezed out of their natural homeland."

But there is hope. The red-crowned crane stands as a symbol of luck and peace in China. And growing understanding amongst the local population of the need to preserve the land, combined with a growing recognition at government level of the problems faced by the park, means Zhalong's rich biodiversity and picturesque landscape could be a ticket to a rosy future for the bloody-headed crane and its wetland companions.