Birdsong in Stone: Lantau’s Painted Avian Residents Transform Island Landscape

They perch gently on concrete ledges. They nestle into peeling stucco. Occasionally, they soar across a stone house’s rooftop.

A flock has landed in Wang Tong Village, a peaceful corner of Lantau Island on Hong Kong’s southwestern edge. But this flock is unlike others: Its birds are made of paint.

These avian murals serve a larger purpose — not merely to draw attention to forgotten places but to tell the story of the extraordinary journeys birds undertake across continents and oceans.

Dominic Johnson-Hill, who envisioned the collection, was captivated by an account from his ornithologist neighbor about the Amur falcon, a bird that travels from Manchuria, pauses in Lantau, then continues its migration across Myanmar, India and Madagascar to South Africa.

“I just assumed these birds lived on the island,” Johnson-Hill recalls. “But they’re not. They’re passing guests.”

That sense of wonder became the seed for what became the Flock Project. Johnson-Hill looked at the abandoned house next to his own and imagined a red-billed blue magpie painted across the wall. “They just seemed to belong there,” he says.

To bring the vision to life, Johnson-Hill sought out someone who could paint birds not just accurately but with soul. He found British artist Rob Aspire, known as “The Birdman” for his intricate, expressive murals of birds that capture both anatomical detail and character.

One bird led to another. A year later, Johnson-Hill invited Aspire back and commissioned seven more murals, expanding the project’s reach across different corners of the island.

Each bird was chosen for its ecological presence, visual harmony or symbolic resonance with place. A kingfisher keeps watch over a stream where fishing is no longer allowed. A Swinhoe’s white-eye blends into the walls near trees where its bright, fluting call still echoes among the leaves.

The murals have transformed abandoned structures into living canvases. Nearly all are painted on vacant homes except one. High on Sunset Peak, 868 meters (nearly 3,000 feet) above sea level, a long-tailed shrike perches naturally on the rooftop of a 90-year-old stone house, watching the mountains unfold below.

The project has created an unexpected connection between Hong Kong’s urban population and the natural world. The murals draw hundreds of people, many from Hong Kong’s concrete heart, who might not otherwise visit these remote corners of Lantau. They wander the trails and alleys of the island’s quiet villages, discovering both art and nature along the way.

On weekends, some enthusiastic visitors bring chalk and mark out arrows, turning village paths into treasure maps for the next bird hunter. This organic, community-driven engagement has created a self-perpetuating cycle of discovery.

The painted birds serve as ambassadors for their living counterparts. By drawing attention to species like the daurian redstart and yellow-browed warbler, the Flock Project raises awareness about the rich biodiversity of Hong Kong’s natural areas. Many visitors are surprised to learn that over 500 bird species have been recorded in Hong Kong, representing about 5% of the world’s known bird species in just 1,104 square kilometers of territory.

“Sometimes noticing beauty is the first step toward wanting to protect it,” Johnson-Hill explains. His vision is to gradually bring more of Hong Kong’s native and migratory birds into view, nestling them into forgotten corners of the island as if they had always lived there.

The murals do more than beautify abandoned structures—they tell a story about migration, transformation, and the relationship between human development and wildlife. In a region where rapid urbanization has dramatically altered natural habitats, these painted birds remind viewers of what might be lost without proper conservation.

Johnson-Hill has created an online map for visitors and is planning the next phase. What comes next depends on what reveals itself — a derelict house brought to his attention, or the conditions that make another bird possible.

Birds migrate. They disappear. Sometimes they return, sometimes not. People are the same way. Villages empty, but the walls remain — with a painted bird, or the memory of one.