One evening, as you stroll along a quiet street, a distinct aroma catches your attention – a sweet floral scent fills the air. Without giving it much thought, you continue your walk. Suddenly, the sweet fragrance is replaced by a peppery, musty, and pungent odor that wafts through the night air.
Your mind briefly recalls old tales linking nighttime flower fragrances to supernatural presences. One such legend speaks of the frangipani scent associated with the Pontianak, a vampiric ghost of a beautiful woman who died during childbirth. According to folklore, when that sweet scent turns pungent, it signals that the Pontianak has become vengeful and is approaching fast.
One of the many books on Pontianak that I had in my teenage days, which has contributed to my fear of flower scent at night.
A shiver runs down your spine, and goosebumps prickle across your skin. Your breathing quickens, and with each rapid inhale, the scent seems to intensify, filling your senses with its mysterious fragrance.
You remember some advice given from Russell Lee’s True Singapore Ghost Story Book – Do not look back or look up or you may see something you do not want to see, perhaps on the tree. Or some old wives’ tales – Do not shine your torchlight at the trees or else you may see the evil spirit and further aggravate it.
Tapping on Your Rationale Brain with Flora Knowledge
If you do have a torchlight with you and choose to disregard those warnings, you may spot clusters of tiny yellowish-green flowers on a few tall, sturdy trees nearby. This tree is the Alstonia scholaris, more commonly known as the Indian Pulai, and ominously referred to as the Devil Tree or Satan Tree, for reasons previously mentioned.
The greenish-yellow flower clusters of the Alstonia Scholaris. Do you notice the leaves are held together in clusters as well? Photograph taken in Bukit Panjang. Commonly planted in our neighbourhoods.
Should you retrace your steps, you’ll likely notice some Frangipani trees (Plumeria obtusa) in the vicinity, their fragrant flowers in full bloom.
Frangipani trees are also planted in many HDB estates.
The shift in scent is likely due to your proximity to two types of trees commonly found along pavements in housing estates and roadsides. Specifically, the overpowering fragrance of the Alstonia tree is probably the culprit, and you’re not alone in finding it overwhelming – many people share your aversion to its exceedingly pungent aroma. It is so smelly that a city in south-central Vietnam cut down over 3,000 trees (out of the 4,000 planted) in 2015 due to their overpowering and unpleasant smell, which has become unbearable for local residents (Click here for source).
In fact, the tree’s strong odour has led to some rather colourful nicknames. While we’ll refrain from mentioning the more crude monikers, it’s worth noting that the tree’s distinctive scent has certainly made an impression, inspiring a variety of descriptive (if not always flattering) names (You may refer to a reddit discussion on Alstonia Scholaris here)
Why Some Flowers Emit Strong Scent at Night?
You might still wonder, “Why is the scent so strong at night? It must be something supernatural?” The answer lies firmly in the realm of science, not the supernatural. Understanding nocturnal plant behaviour reveals a hidden world of ecological interactions that occur while most of us sleep.
Plant pollination takes on a different character after sunset, with specialised night-active insects and animals playing crucial roles. The strong nighttime fragrance isn’t a ghostly phenomenon – it’s a sophisticated biological mechanism.
Why do both the Plumeria and the Alstonia expend so much energy producing scents at night? After all, aren’t most butterflies and bees inactive during these hours? The answer lies in these trees’ fascinating relationship with nocturnal pollinators.
Some sphinx moths (also known as Hawkmoths), for instance, the Oleander Hawk Moth and the Yam Hawk Moth with their impressively long proboscises, are perfectly adapted to feed on and pollinate night-blooming flowers. (Note that not all hawk moths are nocturnal; some species, such as the hummingbird and pellucid hawk moths, are active during the day. Additionally, not all moths are pollinators, as some species lack a functional mouthpart for feeding, for instance, the Atlas Moth). These moths, along with certain species of bats, form a crucial link in the chain of nocturnal pollination. By releasing their potent fragrances after dark, the Plumeria and Alstonia trees have evolved to attract these nighttime visitors, ensuring their continued reproduction and survival.
Yam Hawk Moth – A night dwelling moth that helps with pollination in the wee hours. The Lesser Dog-Faced Bat is a common sight, even in our urban areas. While I couldn’t find specific documentation of this species contributing to pollination, fruit bats in general do play a role while feeding on nectar.
These night-active pollinators are attracted to the strong scents and large, robust flowers of plants like Plumeria and Alstonia. While feeding on the nectar, they are also unintentionally transferring pollen from flower to flower, ensuring the plants’ reproduction.
Some Interesting Features of the Alstonia and Plumeria
The species name “scholaris” reflects the tree’s historical significance in education. Traditionally, its wood was used to craft slates for schoolchildren’s lessons, and it was also a preferred timber for making pencils. Interestingly, local lore suggests that the fragrance of the tree’s flowers had cognitive benefits, improving learning for those who sat beneath its branches. However, this notion is likely met with skepticism by many, as the scent of the flowers is often described as pungent and overpowering, rather than invigorating or conducive to learning.
There is another common name for the Alstonia tree i.e. saptaparni (in sanskrit), which literally means seven-leaves tree as the Alstonia’s leaves are held in clusters, usually adds up to 7. However, it is not always the case as botanically, it ranges from 4-8. For more interesting features of Alstonia Scholaris, click here to read more.
See the clusters of 7 leaves, which isn’t always the case though.
On the other hand, the Plumeria has deep cultural and historical roots, symbolising the exotic Oriental ‘East’ for centuries. This symbolism has been perpetuated in outdated tourism imagery, which often features bikini-clad, brown-skinned women adorned with frangipani flowers in their hair, reinforcing a problematic and stereotypical representation of tropical cultures. Ironically, the Frangipani actually originates from the tropical regions of South America – the ‘West’. For a more nuanced understanding of the Frangipani tree’s cultural and historical significance, click here for a recommended read.
Conclusion
The next time you catch a whiff of sweet fragrance, that suddenly turned pungent on a nighttime walk, remember – you’re not experiencing something supernatural, but rather witnessing an age-old dance between plants and their pollinators. This nocturnal plant behaviour, far from being ominous, is a testament to the incredible adaptability and ingenuity of nature.
“Sometimes we fear the unknown, while other times we fear what we think we know”.
Limited Access to Information of Floral and Fauna
Growing up in the 1980s, our access to factual and accurate information about the natural environment was notably limited, despite the few inspiring resources available. We relied heavily on rare screenings of nature documentaries on television and the occasional informative publications from the Science Centre, such as “A Guide to Pond Life” (1987), “A Guide to Common Singapore Spiders” (1989), and “A Guide to the Bukit Timah Nature Reserve” (1985).
Our curiosity was further piqued by collectibles like Panini Sticker books on wildlife, featuring topics such as “Our World of Endangered Species,” and even the images of flora and fauna printed on the back of MilkMaid tin labels (see blog link). Hands-on learning experiences came through Young Scientist Badge projects and quests, allowing us to explore nature firsthand. However, these resources, while valuable, provided only a fragmented understanding of the natural world.
Thus, our perceptions of nature, including innocuous creatures like butterflies and moths, were heavily influenced by popular culture – movies, TV shows, and community folklore. These sources often dramatised or exaggerated natural phenomena, potentially turning even beautiful insects into objects of fear.
While there’s nothing inherently wrong with dramatisation in the media-entertainment industry, the scarcity of comprehensive factual resources (or perhaps the limited access to such resources) in the 70s, 80s and 90s meant that these cultural depictions often shaped our understanding more than scientific facts. The resulting misconceptions and oversimplified views, formed during our formative years, could lead to irrational fears of harmless creatures like butterflies and moths, persisting into adulthood and affecting our long-term relationship with the environment.
This exploration of how limited information and cultural influences can create fear towards familiar creatures like butterflies sets the stage for understanding broader issues in our perception of the natural world.
Fear of Butterflies
Possibly a Common Four-Ring or Five-Ring Butterfly from the Ypthima genus taken in Thomson Nature Park. At this juncture, is anyone experiencing some discomfort looking at this butterfly? You may have Lepidopterophobia – an irrational and intense fear that can cause people to feel anxious or panicked when they see butterflies.
I used to be afraid of butterflies, a fear I can trace back to a 1988 TV show called “迷离夜” (Mystery) and some old wives’ tales (which I’ll elaborate on later). Thankfully, I’ve grown out of this fear, but it’s worth noting that many children of my generation were affected by this show and its scenes. While I’m cautious about using the word “traumatised” loosely, it’s clear that this series inadvertently influenced a generation of Singaporean children (probably born in the early to mid 80s), shaping their perceptions of these delicate insects, even causing them to develop Lepidopterophobia – an irrational fear of butterflies and moths.
How many of you can already ‘hear’ the eerie theme song by looking at the above screenshot?
In the chilling SBC drama “Butterfly” (蝶) from the supernatural series 迷离夜 (Mystery), butterflies are depicted to have mandibles that bite people. The pivotal scene unfolds in Africa, where a father (a jeweller) and his daughter, 小蝶, explore in search of precious rocks and minerals. Suddenly, a swarm of butterflies emerges, attacking the explorers. In a desperate attempt to rescue his daughter, the father is ‘bitten’ by numerous butterflies on his face, triggering a terrifying and rapid aging process that even the tribal shaman can’t reverse.
小蝶, bitten once, also experiences the aging process after returning to Singapore. What follows are several heart-pounding scenes of 小蝶 screaming hysterically at the mere sight of approaching butterflies, cementing the transformation of these usually harmless creatures into objects of terror.
This netizen made reference to possibly 迷离夜 in a forum thread about the Fear of Butterflies.
In the butterfly scenes from ‘迷离夜’ (which I have screen-captured from MeWatch), four identifiable species are prominently featured: the Common Birdwing (Troides helena), Lime Butterfly (Papilio demoleus), Plain Tiger (Danaus chrysippus), and Common Mormon (Papilio polytes). Another unidentified species may belong to the Junonia genus. Ironically, these butterflies, portrayed as agents of horror in the programme, are common in Singapore and play crucial roles in our ecosystem.
Far from being threats, butterflies are important pollinators, facilitating plant reproduction and supporting biodiversity as they feed on nectar. Their presence often indicates a healthy, balanced environment. Moreover, butterflies serve as a food source for various birds, small animals, and other insects, contributing to the complex food web.
It’s worth noting that butterflies cannot bite; they lack the mouthparts to do so. Instead, they have a proboscis, which they extend to feed on nectar. This fact further underscores the contrast between their benign nature and their frightening portrayal in the programme.
In reality, butterflies enhance our natural world with their beauty and ecological significance, bringing colour to gardens and joy to observers while silently supporting the intricate balance of nature.
小蝶 was first admiring a common birdwing (Troides helena) when the swarm of other butterflies appeared. In a later scene, she went hysterical at the sight of another common birdwing.The scene whereby the father covered his daughter to protect her from the swarm of ‘shape-shifting’ butterflies (变形蝴蝶). You can spot a lime butterfly, a plain tigher and another unidentified species. Can anyone help me with the ID?A harrowing scene depicts the father’s rapid aging, culminating in his transformation into mere bones. This chilling sequence bears a striking resemblance to a pivotal moment in ‘Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade’, where the antagonist faces a similar fate after drinking from the wrong grail.In a near-ending scene, the antagonist in the show also became fearful towards butterflies. When a Common Mormon (Papilio polytes) landed on his forehead, he screamed hysterically.
The portrayal of harmless butterflies as agents of terror in this drama left an indelible mark on viewers, particularly the young, blurring the lines between reality and fiction. The show’s depiction of accelerated aging triggered by butterfly ‘bites’, combined with characters’ hysterical reactions to these insects, created a lasting impact. Given the ubiquity of the featured butterflies in Singapore (with the exception of the less common Birdwing), those affected by the show’s portrayal faced an increased likelihood of experiencing fear or unease during everyday encounters with these typically innocuous creatures.
Upon exploring online forums like Hardware Zone, numerous netizens shared their lingering fears attributed to ‘迷离夜’ or recounted experiences eerily similar to those portrayed in the show.
This netizen was expressing how butterflies have crisp flapping sound, which scares him/her. A scene from 迷离夜 with exaggerated fluttering sound and howling wind as the swarm of butterflies approached the father and daughter.
Some netizens claimed that butterflies create audible, crispy flaps. In reality, butterfly wing movements are silent to human ears. However, ‘迷离夜’ dramatically exaggerated this aspect, adding audible flapping sounds to heighten tension. This creative liberty likely led viewers, especially children, to associate imaginary, ominous sounds with butterfly movements. Such dramatisation, while effective for storytelling, inadvertently created a false association between butterflies and eerie noises, potentially contributing to viewers’ lasting fears or unease around these typically silent insects.
As shared by others, some viewers have come to associate butterflies with rapid ageing. Although the netizen in the screenshot mentioned ‘powder’, which wasn’t featured in ‘迷离夜’, the reference to ageing likely stems from the show’s portrayal. This association with ‘powder’ (or more accurately, their scales), however, appears to have a different origin. It likely comes from old wives’ tales (which will be touched upon in the “Fear of Moths” segment)
Intrigued by comments from Hardware Zone forum, I cast my net wider, hoping to hear from more Singaporeans about whether their responses towards butterflies were impacted by ‘迷离夜’. I shared several screenshots from the show in the Facebook group “Heritage SG Memories”, hoping to gather some responses from members of this community.
After realising that some Singaporean netizens were sharing about how 迷离夜 has caused them to fear butterflies in another forum, I decided to find out more from a FB group with over 100k members. I was really intrigued by the responses.
Almost immediately after publishing, a flood of comments poured in. Many adults expressed that they (and their friends) still harbour a sense of fear towards butterflies, attributing this lingering unease directly to the show. As I am writing this blog post, more Singaporeans have commented about their fear towards butterflies, including grown adults (they were children when they were watching this show in the late 80s). Apparently, some Malays also expressed their fear for butterflies as during the 80s and 90s, many Malays did watch shows from the Chinese channels.
As you can see, one of the netizens is Malay, and she shared that many of her Malay friends also watched Chinese shows during that time.It seems that the association of the show with its eerie theme song has exacerbated the fear.The show seemed to even create some misconceptions about ‘carnivorous butterflies’. While the show is about butterflies, some of them have developed fear towards moths as well. Freezing is a primal response triggered by amygdala hijack – a behaviour that causes an individual to become motionless, instinctively hoping to avoid detection by the perceived threat.
The impact of “迷离夜” on our collective psyche demonstrates how powerful media can be in forming our understanding and fears, especially when combined with limited access to factual information about nature. This experience serves as a fascinating example of how cultural narratives can sometimes overshadow scientific knowledge, leading to unexpected consequences in our relationship with the natural world.
Fortunately, I’ve since overcome my fear of butterflies, largely due to my growing interest in nature. By acquiring knowledge and gradually rewiring my brain with facts, I’ve been able to engage my prefrontal cortex, allowing me to approach these insects with a more rational perspective. In fact during my recent visit to Thomson Nature Park, I spent more than 30 minutes this morning admiring a beautiful Common Jay Butterfly (Graphium doson).
A Common Jay Butterfly ‘puddling’ alongside an overexposed yellow butterfly (possibly a Common Grass Yellow). This behaviour involves butterflies extending their proboscises to drink water and obtain sodium for their bodies.
Fear of Moths
While ‘迷离夜’ focused on butterflies, its impact extended beyond these diurnal insects to their (predominantly) nocturnal cousins: moths. Despite not being featured in the show, moths often bear the brunt of butterfly-induced fears, perhaps due to their similar appearance and nocturnal habits. Let’s explore how this fear has manifested in relation to moths and the unique challenges they present to those grappling with lepidopterophobia.
A frontal view of a huge Atlas Moth spotted in a Bukit Panjang HDB lift lobby. Notice the edges of its wings, which resemble snake heads in an attempt at mimicry, potentially deterring predators.A side view to show its main body. Atlas moth can be seen throughout the year but more commonly sighted between November to January.The Tropical Swallowtail Moth is slightly smaller than the Atlas Moth. Both the Atlas and Tropical Swallowtail Moths experience mass emergences in Singapore. Read more about it in this link.
In many Asian societies, moths have long been associated with death and the supernatural realm, a connection stemming from various cultural beliefs and superstitions. In countries such as the Philippines, Malaysia, and Singapore, moths are often perceived as the souls of the departed. Reports of certain moths appearing during wakes or funerals have led many to believe these insects embody the spirits of the deceased, returning to comfort or bid farewell to their families. Similarly, in some parts of China, large moths are considered harbingers of death, their presence interpreted as a sign that someone in the household will soon pass away.
This eerie association is further intensified by the presence of moths that seem to bear facial features resembling death, particularly the Death’s-head Hawkmoth, which can be found in Singapore. Its distinctive skull-like pattern on the thorax adds a chilling dimension to the already superstitious perceptions surrounding these nocturnal insects. No wonder it is commonly known as an omen for death.
Can you see a face (some people claim it looks like a skull) on the moth? Read more about this hawkmoth here. Credit: Butterfly ConservationThe Death-Head Hawkmoth is even used in the movie poster for “The Silence of the Lambs”
A common misconception that has persisted in various Asian countries is the belief that the ‘powder’ from moth wings can cause blindness if they come into contact with human eyes. This unfounded fear has led many people to avoid moths or react with panic when encountering them. In reality, the powder-like substance on moth wings is actually composed of minuscule scales, which are modified hairs. Both moths and butterflies are part of the Lepidoptera order, a name that translates to ‘scale wing’. These scales not only provide pigmentation but also create intricate wing patterns through light diffraction. (here is a source to read more about the scales of moths and butterflies). They are harmless and do not pose any threat to human eyesight. The origin of this myth is unclear. Despite the lack of scientific evidence supporting this claim, the belief continues to contribute to the fear and misunderstanding surrounding moths in many Asian communities.
Here is a photograph of a tiny moth known as Choreutis orthogona. The intricate patterns on its wings result from the precise arrangement of microscopic scales. These patterns serve multiple purposes in the moth’s life cycle, including attracting mates, providing camouflage, and deterring potential predators (for instance the Atlas Moth mentioned earlier).I recently had the pleasure of encountering a stunning tussock moth, likely Lymantria alexandrae, at Hindhede Nature Park in Singapore. Take a closer look at those ‘furry’ legs! This specimen’s unique beauty truly caught my eye. I am definitely not fearful of them anymore.
Moths (other than a few species that do not feed at all such as the Atlas Moth and the beautiful Luna Moth) play a crucial role in pollination, often surpassing the efficiency of their daytime counterparts like bees – moths have been found to pollinate flowers more quickly than day-flying insects. Research from the University of Sussex revealed that while moths accounted for only 15% of visits to bramble flowers, they were more efficient pollinators. This nocturnal contribution is particularly vital for maintaining biodiversity and supporting ecosystems. Their pollination services extend to a diverse range of plant species, including some that may not be adequately served by diurnal pollinators (refer to reference article from Butterfly Conservation here)
Fear Towards the ‘Known’
Fear is often associated with the unknown, looming uncertainties of the future. However, as we’ve seen with the case of butterflies and moths, it can also stem from what we think we know. Misconceptions, whether born from cultural beliefs, media portrayals, or misunderstood experiences, can lead to irrational fears of even the most harmless creatures. By understanding the true nature of these insects and their vital roles in our ecosystems, we can work to overcome these unfounded fears, appreciating the beauty and importance of butterflies and moths in our world.
Ai generated image which accurately reflects my imagination as a young boy who was scared of snakes
A story from my primary school days, told by my Chinese Language teacher, etched in my memory and it went like this:
In a family home, a pet cat and a newborn baby coexisted peacefully. One day, a snake managed to slither into the house, posing a potential threat to the infant. The vigilant cat, sensing danger, confronted the snake. A fierce battle ensued, ending with the cat emerging victorious, having killed the snake to protect the baby.
With a sense of pride and accomplishment, the blood-stained feline approached its owners. However, the sight of their beloved pet with a bloodied mouth near their child’s room triggered an immediate and catastrophic assumption. Fearing the worst, they believed the cat had harmed their baby.
In a moment of panic and without verifying the situation, the owners struck a fatal blow to the cat. Only afterward did they discover the truth: their baby was unharmed, and a snake’s carcass lay nearby, revealing the cat’s heroic deed.
Overwhelmed with regret and sorrow, the family buried their loyal pet, now fully aware of its sacrifice.
As our teacher gently closed the book, a hush fell over the classroom. I remember the soft sounds of sniffling from my classmates as we grappled with the story’s emotional impact. In that poignant moment, I believe many of us developed a reflexive wariness towards snakes, our young minds associating them with danger and tragedy while linking domesticated dogs and cats as heroes.
Coincidentally, fast forward a few decades later in 2021, a viral story emerged that seemed straight out of a “Drama in Real Life” segment from Reader’s Digest. The story centred around a courageous cat named Arthur, who faced off against one of the world’s deadliest reptiles – the Eastern Brown Snake (Pseudonaja textilis). In a dramatic turn of events reminiscent of my childhood memories, Arthur’s bravery came at the ultimate cost. The feline hero sacrificed his life while protecting his family from the venomous intruder.
Arthur the cat died protecting two children from an Eastern Brown Snake in Queensland, Australia. Credit: Animal Emergency Service HQThe Australian Brown snake that Arthur, a domestic shorthair family cat, killed in the process of saving 2 children in Queensland Australia. Credit: Animal Emergency Service HQ
While the tale of Arthur’s bravery is undoubtedly touching, it’s worth considering an alternative viewpoint. As a proud owner of two rescued cats, I’ve observed that our feline friends’ actions might not always stem from a desire to protect us. Cats, by nature, are skilled predators with an instinctive drive to hunt. Their fascination with snakes often appears to be more about satisfying this innate urge rather than a conscious effort to safeguard their human companions. This predatory instinct, honed over millennia of evolution, compels cats to pursue and attempt to kill snakes and other small creatures.
However, it’s important to note that media portrayals tend to anthropomorphise animal behaviour, attributing human-like motivations to our pets’ actions. The narrative of a heroic cat sacrificing itself for its family is undeniably heartwarming and guaranteed to elicit an “aww” response from audiences. This emotional angle naturally leads to increased viewership and engagement.
These two narratives, whilst distinct, share a common thread: they cast cats and snakes into oversimplified roles of hero and villain. Such compelling yet reductive portrayals often fail to capture the true complexity of nature and animal behaviour. Consequently, they may inadvertently instill an unwarranted fear of snakes in people.
More alarmingly, these simplistic narratives can lead to celebratory reactions when snakes (villains) are killed, as evidenced by recent horrific incidents which happened in Singapore. In November 2024, two men was reported to have burnt a reticulated python to death, whilst in 2023, there was an incident of an individual decapitating another python while the crowd around him laughed and celebrated (see link). These shocking events underscore the dangerous consequences of perpetuating negative stereotypes about snakes and highlight the urgent need for better education and understanding of these often misunderstood creatures.
How Does Popular Culture Portray Snakes in Modern Society?
Snakes, also known as serpents in literary, mythological, or religious texts, have long held a significant place in human consciousness. Traditionally associated with evil and cunning, these reptiles have slithered their way from ancient myths to modern pop culture, often retaining their mysterious and sometimes sinister reputation. In many ancient traditions, snakes carried ominous connotations. The Biblical serpent in the Book of Genesis, portrayed as a crafty tempter in the Garden of Eden, led to humanity’s fall from grace. Greek mythology presents us with Medusa, a Gorgon whose hair of writhing snakes could turn onlookers to stone. These early depictions set a precedent for snakes as symbols of deceit, danger, and the darker aspects of nature.
An illustration of medusa staring at an soldier and turning it to stone.
Snakes & Ladders
In a thought-provoking yet light-hearted sharing held on the 25th Jan 2025, Anbu, Co-CEO of Animal Concerns Research and Education Society (ACRES), pointed out that even seemingly harmless games like “Snakes and Ladders” can perpetuate negative perceptions of snakes. Who among us hasn’t dreaded landing on the snake in that classic board game? Building on Anbu’s insight, I couldn’t help but wonder: what’s implied when we land on that snake? Does it subtly suggest a snake’s supposed deadly appetite for humans, perhaps even the idea of being swallowed whole and… well, exiting through the snake’s other end? Anbu’s observation reminds us that even small, subtle details can profoundly shape our attitudes and biases.
A typical Snakes & Ladders game. When your game token lands on a ladder after throwing a dice, you can get climb up to the higher boxes. On the other hand, you will plummet down upon landing on a snake.
Serpentine ‘Villains’: Snakes in Pop Culture’s Dark Side
Friendly heads-up for those unfamiliar with fantasy, comics and anime references!
While often retaining elements of their traditional symbolism of darkness, modern interpretations have added layers of complexity to these serpentine figures. For instance, Cobra Commander, the primary antagonist of the G.I. Joe franchise, exemplifies the traditional portrayal of snakes as symbols of evil and cunning in popular culture. His iconic cobra-head helmet and the snake-themed imagery pervasive throughout his terrorist organisation, Cobra, reinforce this symbolism. Cobra Commander embodies qualities often associated with snakes: cunning, treachery, and danger, reflecting a longstanding trend in media where serpents represent villainy and threat. Yet, the G.I. Joe franchise also presents a contrasting snake-themed character: Snake Eyes. As a heroic ninja commando, Snake Eyes subverts the typical snake symbolism. Despite his serpentine moniker, he stands for loyalty, skill, and honour, fighting alongside the G.I. Joe team against Cobra’s terrorist activities. This juxtaposition within the same franchise highlights an evolution in the use of snake imagery in popular culture.
GI JOE #150 Snake Eyes vs Cobra Commander Newsstand VARIANT 1994 Credit: Marvel Comics
In the world of Japanese comics and animation, snakes continue to inspire intriguing characters. Orochimaru from the Naruto series, a human character closely associated with snakes, embodies the darker and more mysterious aspects of the ninja world. As one of the legendary Sannin, Orochimaru’s snake-like attributes reflect his cunning nature and forbidden jutsu, making him a complex antagonist. Despite his villainous past, he aided the protagonists by reanimating the previous Hokage, providing crucial support in the battle against Madara Uchiha and the Ten-Tails. This unexpected alliance showcased Orochimaru’s depth as a character, blurring the lines between hero and villain, and further cementing his status as one of the most memorable snake-inspired characters in anime history.
Orochimaru: The snake-like antagonist from Naruto, embodying cunning and forbidden power with his pale skin, serpentine eyes, and insatiable thirst for immortality and knowledge. Credit: Naruto Shippuden
The Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling provides a multifaceted approach to snake symbolism. Slytherin House, one of the four houses at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is often portrayed as the antagonist house. Its serpent symbol and reputation for producing dark wizards play into traditional snake symbolism. The series’ main antagonist, Lord Voldemort, is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin and a Parselmouth (able to speak to snakes). His connection to snakes, including his pet Nagini (later revealed as a Horcrux), reinforces his role as a dark and feared character.
Many fans of Harry Potter would probably associate snakes in negative ways due to the darker characters from the Slytherin House. Credit: Harry Potter FranchiseNagini is one of Voldemort’s horcruxes in “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.” Credit: Warner Bros.
While these modern interpretations often draw from traditional symbolism, they also add nuance. Characters like Orochimaru, Severus Snape and the Slytherin students are not simply evil, but complex individuals with their own motivations and redeeming qualities. This evolution in snake symbolism reflects a broader trend in storytelling towards more nuanced characters and a recognition that even traditionally “dark” symbols can have multiple interpretations. As our understanding of the natural world and our own psychology deepens, so too does our ability to create rich, multifaceted serpentine characters that slither beyond binary categorisations of good and evil.
When It’s Not All Dark & Dreadful… Yet Still Problematic
A familiar logo involving snakes can often be seen in Singapore, prominently displayed on emergency vehicles and uniforms. Whilst many recognise it, few may question its origin or significance. The Singapore Civil Defence Force (SCDF) refers to this emblem as “The Star of Life,” but our focus here is on the central element: the serpent-entwined staff known as “The Rod of Asclepius.”
The Rod of Asclepius, featuring a single serpent coiled around a staff, represents the Greek god Asclepius, a deity associated with healing and medicine in ancient mythology. This symbol carries deep meaning:
The serpent, which sheds its skin, represents renewal, transformation, and the cyclical nature of health and life.
The staff symbolises authority, stability, and support in the medical profession.
It is crucial to recognise that even positive portrayals of snakes can have unintended negative consequences, often leading to exploitation. In parts of Asia, there’s a traditional belief in the healing properties of snakes, contrasting with the ominous symbolism often conveyed by popular culture. This belief has given rise to practices such as the creation of snake wines, where whole snakes are steeped in alcohol, purportedly conferring medicinal benefits. Cobras, in particular, are frequently targeted for these purposes due to two main factors: the perceived medicinal properties of their venom and the potent energy they are believed to emit.
Regrettably, the sight of a fully-hooded cobra preserved in a wine jar has become a popular tourist souvenir, further exacerbating the issue. This cultural and medicinal significance has unfortunately placed considerable pressure on cobra populations (Read more about the above from the following two articles: BBC and Geographical).
Bottles like the above have often been displayed in both Chinese traditional medicine shops or even in tourist souvenir shops in parts of Asia. Credit: nattapong17122549 from Getty Images
Thus, the solution isn’t about portraying them in more positive light either, especially in symbolic manners. Solutions to change our perceptions of snakes have to be scientific, understanding a little about human psychology as well as scientific knowledge of wildlife.
Understanding Our Emotional Response towards Snake Encounters – Fight, Flight, Freeze and Fawn
Fear indeed plays a vital role in our survival instincts, especially when it comes to potentially dangerous animals like snakes. It’s a natural response that has evolved over time to keep us safe by triggering certain reactions – Fight, Flight, Freeze, or even Fawn – at varying levels of intensity.
These instinctive responses, collectively known as the stress response or acute stress response, are our body’s automatic physiological reaction to perceived threats. When encountering a snake, for instance, our brain rapidly assesses the situation and initiates one or more of these responses:
Fight: Preparing to confront the threat directly.
Flight: Readying the body to flee from danger.
Freeze: Becoming immobile, often in hopes of avoiding detection.
Fawn: A less commonly discussed response involving appeasing or submitting to the perceived threat.
The intensity of these responses can vary based on factors such as the individual’s past experiences, knowledge about snakes, and the specific context of the encounter.
Flight is often a standard response for many people when encountering snakes. Some individuals may instinctively run away, while others might take a few cautious steps back. When combined with ‘Freeze‘ response, individuals may observe and appreciate wildlife safely even when the snake is venomous as the snakes do not feel threatened. When faced with unknown snakes or any wildlife, whether in their natural habitats or unexpectedly in urban environments, maintaining a safe distance is a conscious manifestation of the flight response.
This precautionary behaviour is particularly crucial for those who lack expertise in snake identification or knowledge of their behaviour. In such situations, a rational fear serves as a protective mechanism, preventing us from approaching potentially dangerous animals too closely.
This measured response allows us to respect the animal’s space while ensuring our own safety. It’s a balanced approach that acknowledges our instinctive fear while allowing for a more controlled reaction, promoting safer interactions between humans and wildlife in various settings.
A rather uncommon Black-Headed Collared Snake (non-venomous) spotted at Mandai area in 2024.
The fight response is often evident when humans encounter a pack of wild dogs. I have observed others and personally responded in similar ways – not to attack the dogs directly, but rather to make ourselves appear louder and more aggressive, with the hope of deterring the dogs. This behaviour typically involves raising our voices, making ourselves appear larger, and maintaining a confident posture, all while internally feeling quite nervous and apprehensive.
This response is a classic example of how our instinctive fight mechanism can manifest in a more controlled, strategic manner. Instead of engaging in physical combat, we attempt to intimidate and discourage the perceived threat. It’s a delicate balance between asserting dominance and avoiding direct confrontation, all while managing our own internal fear and stress.
Striped Keelback spotted and guided into the vegetation at Gardens By the Bay in 2024.
While fight can serve as a protective mechanism, excessive or uncontrolled fight response can lead to unnecessary harm – both to humans and wildlife. Recent incidents in Singapore highlight this issue, where reticulated pythons were killed despite posing no immediate threat (see link). These tragic outcomes often stem from misunderstanding and a misplaced ‘fight’ response when individuals may feel compelled to eliminate perceived threats. This behaviour, while rooted in our survival instincts, often results in needless conflict and harm.
Sometimes, the fear driving these actions isn’t directed at the animals themselves. For instance, it may be a fear of social perception – a concern about how others might view us if we don’t take action. Questions like “Will I be seen as a coward or incompetent or unmanly if I don’t attempt to move closer, catch or kill the snake?” can lead to unnecessary aggressive behaviour towards wildlife and/or endanger themselves.
A beautiful and non-venomous Painted-Bronzeback spotted in Singapore Botanic Gardens just a few days back (2025). It was soaking up on the shrub after the rain.
Fawning behaviour, whilst more commonly discussed in human psychological contexts, can indeed occur during wildlife encounters. In the context of wildlife interactions, fawning can be understood as attempts to appease or placate a perceived threat through submissive or “friendly” behaviours.
Common manifestations when it comes to wildlife encounters include offering food, avoiding eye contact, and speaking in a soft or soothing voice. However, these actions often stem from misconceptions and anthropomorphism, and can lead to risks. Offering food, for instance, is generally discouraged by wildlife experts as it can lead to habituation, altering animals’ natural behaviours and potentially harming their health. Moreover, it may increase the likelihood of aggressive encounters as animals learn to associate humans with food.
There was a ‘fawning’ scene (starting 1:16) that failed badly in this Stephen Chow’s movie “Kungfu”.
It is also important to note that fawning behaviours may be perceived as appeasing to one animal (maybe your specific pet dog or cat) could be seen as threatening to another. For instance, attempting to speak softly and gently with empathy to a fully-hooded Equatorial Spitting Cobra would be an extremely foolish, dangerous and misguided approach. This venomous snake’s defensive posture indicates it feels threatened, and any attempt at close interaction could result in a potentially life-threatening encounter. For snake encounters, wildlife experts generally advise against any form of fawning behaviour, instead recommending maintaining a safe distance and slowly backing away if necessary, which are both manifestations of flight behaviours.
Calibrating Fear via Education & Self-Management
Intervention and preventive strategies for managing human-wildlife conflicts are becoming increasingly significant as occurrences have risen substantially over the years. This trend is driven by several factors: habitat encroachment, heightened awareness of mental well-being benefits from nature exposure, including ‘forest bathing’ and increased human comfort in venturing into wilder nature spaces. In fact, while typing this blog post, a nature enthusiast, Choo Shiu Ling and a few other photographers spotted and photographed a beautiful specimen of the highly venomous King Cobra (Ophiophagus hannah) along the newly opened Mandai Boardwalk on the 26th Jan 2025.
A beautifully taken photograph of a King Cobra by Choo Shiu Ling (Click here for source).
A recent Channel NewsAsia (CNA) report highlighted a significant increase in cases of animals entering urban areas in 2024, with wildlife management firms reporting a 65% rise compared to 2023. Common palm civets and long-tailed macaques form the bulk of these encounters.
For comprehensive information about road kills affecting Sambar Deer, Sunda Pangolins, and snakes in Singapore, consider watching this particular YouTube video from Channel NewsAsia (CNA). This video provides valuable insights into wildlife conservation challenges and efforts to mitigate human-wildlife conflicts on roads.
To reduce human-wildlife tensions, I believe we need a two-pronged approach: education and self-management, targeting two parts of our human brain – the Prefrontal Cortex and the Amygdala.
Education is crucial as it provides knowledge that helps humans think and make decisions more rationally using our ‘top-brain’, specifically the prefrontal cortex, in wildlife encounter situations. This is achieved by learning about animal behaviour and responding with appropriate actions, such as maintaining a safe distance from animals or refraining from using pesticides against bronzebacks or other snakes encountered in one’s house. Anbu’s true story illustrates this point: one of her rescues involved a bronzeback that had been sprayed with pesticide. Fortunately, it was nursed back to health, unlike many other snakes that didn’t survive due to neurological disorders caused by such sprays.
A partial photograph of a highly venomous Blue Coral Snake taken in Thomson Nature Park (2024) as it slithered quickly under the leaf. Guess what is the colour of its head? It is as orangey-red as its tail. Credit: Gabriel Kang
Education about wildlife doesn’t require comprehensive knowledge, as not everyone will share the same level of interest. Instead, it’s about developing awareness and understanding key principles. This includes recognising when to step back, consciously walk away, or call a helpline when faced with unfamiliar wildlife situations. By adopting this approach, we ensure safety for both humans and animals whilst fostering more informed and compassionate interactions with nature.
One key knowledge to be equipped with is that most snakes are not ‘aggressive’ towards humans unless provoked or threatened. As Anbu humorously remarked during her “Snakes of Singapore” presentation, in her many years of snake rescues, she has been the one chasing after snakes rather than the reverse. In addition, she stressed that the more accurate term to describe a snake’s behaviour when confronted is “defensive” rather than “aggressive”. This distinction is crucial for understanding snake behaviour. Snakes typically react defensively when they feel threatened or cornered, rather than actively seeking confrontation with humans. Their primary instinct is to avoid conflict and escape potential danger. This defensive posture is a natural survival mechanism, not an indication of inherent aggression towards humans.
Another knowledge is recognising snakes’ vital role in the ecosystem. They help control rodent populations (which can be quite a severe problem in Singapore), and some, like our native King Cobras, even prey on other snakes, thus maintaining ecological balance. Understanding these important functions can help shift our perceptions from fear to appreciation of these remarkable creatures.
A juvenile, mildly venomous, Oriental Whip Snake spotted in Pasir Ris Park in 2025
During my own nature walks over the years, I’ve also observed that most snakes tend to avoid human presence unlike how popular culture has typically portrayed them. However, there are notable exceptions, particularly among (semi) arboreal species. Two such examples are Wagler’s Pit Vipers (Tropidolaemus wagleri) and Reticulated Pythons (Malayopython reticulatus). These snakes often remain curled up on trees or man-made structures, appearing indifferent to their surroundings. Their behaviour is characterised by seeming sluggishness and prolonged periods of motionlessness. It’s important to note that this apparent inactivity is not just a sign of indifference but a key part of their hunting strategy. This stillness allows them to effectively ambush unsuspecting prey. If you become aware of these snakes’ presence, it’s advisable to maintain a safe distance. Despite their seemingly passive demeanor, they may still strike defensively if they feel threatened. Always prioritise your safety and respect the snake’s space when encountering these fascinating creatures in their natural habitat.
A younger female Wagler’s Pit Viper spotted at Thomson Nature Park. Wagler’s are nocturnal and hence tend to be motionless during most parts of the day.
However, education alone is not sufficient. Self-management is equally important, particularly in regulating our immediate emotional reactions to wildlife encounters. The amygdala, a part of our brain responsible for processing emotions and triggering the ‘fight, flight, freeze, fawn’ response, plays a crucial role in these situations. This is especially challenging for individuals who may have had prior negative encounters with wildlife and as a result, developed ingrained perceptions towards specific animals due to traumatic incidents.
In such cases, responses can become more extreme due to what is known as an amygdala hijack – an intense, immediate emotional response that’s disproportionate to the situation. This occurs when the amygdala, the brain’s emotional centre, takes control and overrides the rational part of the brain, leading to potentially harmful or unnecessary reactions to wildlife encounters.
This photograph of a juvenile King Cobra was taken on the Birdwatching Tower at Sungei Buloh in 2011. The snake’s striking green colouration is noteworthy, as it could be mistaken for a non-venomous tree snake by the untrained eye. This vibrant green hue is a characteristic feature of King Cobras in their juvenile stage, and it changes as the snake matures. (Note that the photograph was taken using a DSLR with a reasonable zoom for my personal safety) It slithered beneath one of the tower steps as I continued my ascent to the top. While the snake showed no signs of aggression towards me, its proximity was unsettling, given the species’ venomous reputation. Nevertheless, I was grateful to have a chance for this beautiful encounter.
By practising self-management techniques (like regulating our breathing, learning to sit on moments of discomfort before going into our instinctive behaviours and pausing our instinctive response), individuals can learn to recognise and mitigate these amygdala hijacks, allowing the prefrontal cortex – responsible for rational thinking and decision-making – to guide behaviour instead. This approach helps regulate emotional responses, enabling more informed and measured reactions during wildlife encounters, ultimately protecting both humans and animals. At this juncture, I would like to share one of my favourite quotes, which I find very meaningful when it comes to self-management.
“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response”.
— Viktor E. Frankl
In my opinion, by adopting this dual approach (which I admit is easier said than done), we can foster a more harmonious coexistence between humans and wildlife. It not only reduces unnecessary fears and conflicts but also promotes conservation efforts by encouraging more positive and informed interactions with local fauna. Ultimately, this strategy equips us with both the knowledge and the emotional regulation necessary to navigate human-wildlife interactions more effectively.
Lastly, wishing you a prosperous and auspicious Chinese New Year in the Year of the Snake. May the coming year bring you good fortune, health and happiness!
It has been over a year since my last offshore fishing trip, and today I finally had the chance to join my friends for an exciting expedition in the Southern Islands area, situated between Sentosa and Saint John’s Island.
Passing by PSA on Our Fishing Boat
With Chinese New Year approaching, we embarked on our fishing trip with high hopes of landing some prized catches like Coral Trout, Golden Snapper, Red Snapper, or the Orange-Spotted Grouper for our reunion dinners. However, our enthusiasm was dampened by unfavourable weather conditions, as heavy downpours significantly impacted the bite rate, making our quest more challenging.
In the end, we caught a variety of other fishes instead, that included a Black Spot Tuskfish (Choerodon schoenleinii), which is often mistakenly called ‘Eng Kor’ or Parrot Fish in Hokkien, despite belonging to a different family than true parrotfish (Scaridae). We also caught a Fingermark Seaperch, commonly known as ‘Golden Snapper’ (Lutjanus johnii), and an impressively large ‘Leng Jiam’, also known as a Spangled Emperor (Lethrinus nebulosus). To round out our catch, we reeled in numerous ‘Tee Boon’, or Spanish Flag Snapper (Lutjanus carponotatus). While we may not have caught exactly what we were aiming for, we enjoyed the time spent together.
Alvin, an ex-colleague caught a beautiful Spangled EmperorA Black-Spotted Tuskfish with a broken tooth (tusk). Parrot fish, on the other hand, has strong human-liked teeth to chomp through corals with ease.
Warning: If you have entomophobia (a fear of insects) or hemophobia (a fear of blood), please do not continue with the article.
A Nightmarish and Disturbing Discovery
Our fishing adventure was filled with unexpected sights and discoveries. During our trip, we were treated to the majestic view of 5-6 White-Bellied Sea Eagles (Haliaeetus leucogaster) soaring through the sky and perching on one of St. John’s Island’s Casuarina Trees. We also exclaimed in awe at the sight of a huge turtle, most likely a Green Turtle (Chelonia mydas) given its impressive size.
A disturbing yet fascinating discovery was the Tongue-Eating Louse (Cymothoa exigua), I mean lice, as there were two of them in the mouth of a Spanish Flag Snapper, caught by my ex-colleague, Marvin.
Inside the mouth of a Spanish flag snapper, two tongue-eating lice have yet attached themselvesWhen I reached home, the two lice have found its rightful place on the tongue.
Behaviours & Appearances of the Parasitic Isopods
During their juvenile stage, these isopods swim freely in the ocean before attaching themselves to fish. They then crawl into the fish’s mouth through the gills and make their way to the tongue, where they anchor themselves using their sharp claws. This clever manoeuvre cuts off blood circulation to the tongue, causing the tongue to eventually experience necrosis.
But that’s not the most astonishing part – the parasite then positions itself as a replacement tongue, essentially becoming a functional part of the fish’s anatomy. It survives by feeding on the host’s blood and mucus.
The photograph above shows two tongue-eating lice, with the larger female (approximately 20mm) taking center stage and the smaller male (about 8mm) positioned behind and slightly underneath her. Apparently, they are protandrous hermaphrodites as they begin their lives as males and mature into females. Thus, it is safe to deduce that the smaller one is not just smaller in size but younger in age as well.
As I cleaned and prepared the fish for freezing, I carefully extracted the tongue, which still had the two isopods attached. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t separate them from the tongue, as their multiple pairs of legs were tightly lodged in place. What struck me as remarkable was that, even after being out of water for over 6 hours, the isopods were still alive and moving. This raised an intriguing question: are these tiny creatures capable of breathing air?
After gutting the fish, I removed the tongue and saw the two isopods in this particular position.Observe the back of the female. Looks like part of the body structure that allows the isopods to swim through the water. Does anyone have more information about the anatomy of this isopod crustacean?
As much as they are scary-looking creatures, these parasites do not really kill their hosts and often the latter will outlive the parasites. Nevertheless, the host may be slightly malnourished.
The host where the tongue-destroyers lived looks thinner than my usual catch of Spanish Flag Snappers.The underside of the two parasites. How many pairs of legs can you see?
After I have preserved the parasites in a bottle of 70% alcohol, the bigger female started having babies floating around. So it wasn’t bloated. It was pregnant!
Ewwwww… Goosebumps!
I’ve spent what feels like an eternity observing these two creatures, all in the pursuit of accurately documenting their behaviours and appearances. Despite being an insect enthusiast – I even keep terrestrial isopods as pets – there’s something about these particular creatures that sends shivers down my spine and leaves me covered in goosebumps.
And so, our journey into the bizarre world of tongue-eating lice comes to an end. But if you’re ready for more adventures into the uncharted territories of Earth’s biodiversity, be sure to follow birdbrain blog for a wild ride. From the fascinating to the frightening, we’ll explore it all – so, buckle up and join us, but be warned: not all of our discoveries will be for the faint of heart!
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