On the remote edges of Hong Kong’s Lantau Island, abandoned village homes are being transformed into vibrant landmarks through a growing collection of bird murals that blend art, ecology and quiet storytelling.
In Wang Tong Village, weathered concrete walls and aging stone houses now host painted images of native and migratory birds — from bright kingfishers to delicate warblers — creating what locals call a living gallery woven into the landscape. The project turns forgotten spaces into visual reminders of the wildlife that passes through the island each year.
The initiative, known as the Flock Project, was conceived by longtime Lantau resident Dominic Johnson-Hill. The idea took shape after conversations with an ornithologist neighbor revealed how birds such as the Amur falcon make brief stopovers in Hong Kong during vast migrations stretching from Northeast Asia to southern Africa.
Like many residents, Johnson-Hill had once assumed these birds were permanent inhabitants. Learning they were temporary visitors sparked a desire to acknowledge their presence in a lasting way. He began by imagining a mural on an abandoned house near his own — an image that would feel natural, as if it had always belonged there.
To bring the concept to life, Johnson-Hill collaborated with British artist Rob Aspire, widely known for his detailed and expressive bird murals. Aspire’s work combines scientific accuracy with a painterly style that allows each bird to appear at ease in its surroundings. What started as a single mural soon expanded, and within a year several more birds appeared across the village.
Each mural is carefully selected for its relationship to the location. A kingfisher overlooks a stream where fishing is now restricted. A Swinhoe’s white-eye blends into walls near tree cover where its call is still heard. Most of the birds are painted on abandoned homes, reinforcing the connection between migration, absence and memory.
One exception sits high above the village on Sunset Peak. There, a long-tailed shrike is painted atop the roof of a nearly century-old stone house, gazing out over the mountains from nearly 3,000 feet above sea level. The placement gives the illusion of a real bird surveying its territory.
The project’s broader aim is to gradually introduce more of Hong Kong’s native and migratory species into overlooked corners of the island, integrating them into the environment rather than turning them into formal attractions.
The murals have quietly drawn visitors from across the city. Walkers and cyclists explore the narrow paths of Wang Tong, searching for painted birds tucked between trees and ruins. On weekends, some visitors mark routes with chalk arrows, turning the village into an informal scavenger hunt. An online map now helps guide newcomers along the growing art walk.
Beyond tourism, the murals encourage reflection. They prompt visitors to notice the natural world, even in places shaped by abandonment and change. For Johnson-Hill, that awareness is central to the project’s purpose.
Birds come and go, often unnoticed. Villages empty as people move on. But the walls remain — and through these murals, they carry stories of movement, loss and the fragile beauty that passes briefly through a place.
