The mango tree at 125 Bukit Merah Lane 1 is a renowned hotspot among Singapore’s birding community, attracting a variety of species such as the Coconut Lorikeet (Trichoglossus haematodus), Blue-Crowned Hanging Parrot (Loriculus galgulus), Black-Naped Oriole (Oriolus chinensis), Asian Glossy Starling (Aplonis panayensis), Javan Myna (Acridotheres javanicus) etc.
I challenge all birders and nature enthusiasts to explore fruiting mango trees in their area – these birds might be living right on your doorstep! Here’s an example from Bukit Panjang, right beside a shopping mall.
Just yesterday, as I walked by the tree, I caught a whiff of sweet scent and spotted half-eaten fruits. As it was already 6:00 pm and birds were scarce, I was surprised to find a Lesser Dog-Faced Fruit Bat (Cynopterus brachyotis) feasting on a mango.
This species of bat is highly adaptable to urban spaces and is, in fact, the most commonly spotted bat species in Singapore.
A few months back, when the mangoes were ripe, many birds flocked to this particular mango tree to feast, particularly in the mornings. On one such morning, I recorded the following bird species visiting the same tree in Bukit Panjang.
Black-Naped Orioles have a clear fondness for mangoes! I’ve affectionately nicknamed them the “Wolverine” due to their striking yellow plumage, which reminds me of the iconic X-Men character’s costume.I spotted two Coconut Lorikeets regularly visiting this mango tree, and here’s one of them in action! Looks like it’s time for a cleanup – this bird is definitely a messy eater!Here’s a lovely female Blue-Crowned Hanging Parrot! While they’re often heard flying between spots, the best opportunities for photography are usually near mango trees located close to carparks or HDB corridors. In more natural settings, I tend to find them high up in the canopies of ficus trees, feasting on tiny figs.The Blue-Crowned Hanging Parrot gets its name from the distinctive blue crown found on males – which this one lacks. So, it’s pretty clear that this is a female!A Spotted Dove waiting for its turn to feast on the mangoes.Catching the sun’s rays, Asian Glossy Starlings can reveal their stunning iridescent green feathers (not in this case though) – and their love for mangoes is undeniable!When I first started birding, this species was still referred to as the Olive Sunbird – now it’s known as the Ornate Sunbird. Interestingly, I did spot one in the same tree, although it wasn’t feeding on the mangoes this time.The Javan Myna is another common sight on our local mango trees. Hey! Where is our own native Common Myna? In this case, it looks like a curious juvenile might be waiting for its parents to bring it some mango treats!And how can we forget the Yellow-Vent Bulbuls? They’re definitely enjoying their share of mangoes at this buffet!Well! Our winged friends also love the remains of the mango. An unidentified butterfly and possibly a wasp/hornet at the bottom of the picture. A special guest joins the party! This Sunda Pygmy Woodpecker isn’t here for the mangoes, but rather to lend a beak in pest control – a welcome helper for the mango tree! One of my favorite woodpeckers in Singapore, for sure!And of course, a common sight to see the weaver ants’ nest on mango trees!
In fact, when my friend visited the same tree the next morning, he spotted even more species, including a Common Iora (Aegithina tiphia) and a Pied Triller (Lalage nigra), in addition to all the birds I previously mentioned.
Let’s open our senses to the world around us! Notice the mango trees in your neighborhood – are they fruiting? Can you catch the sweet scent wafting from them? And do you hear the lively, screeching calls of the birds?
I challenge you to find your own mango tree teeming with life – I’m sure it’s waiting to be discovered!
While conducting nature guiding walks, one of the biggest concerns is often ‘Will the birds show up?’ After gaining a deeper understanding of relationships among the flora and fauna species within any ecosystems, I have come to realise that if birds are elusive, I can instead look for the tree species they tend to frequent. Trees, after all, provide a more reliable presence (barring events like lightning strikes or removal by authorities for various reasons).
One of the tree species I often look out for bird sightings is the Albizia Tree, specifically Falcataria falcata (see link from uforest for more detailed documentation of its physical features). Typically seen from a distance from boardwalks in nature parks or park connectors within secondary forests, these trees are notable for being among the world’s fastest-growing species (can reach maturity within 5 years), which has led to their popular use in reforestation projects.
So why are Albizia trees often located away from areas with high human traffic? It’s because they belong to the softwood species, characterised by low-density wood and a shallow root system. These features make them vulnerable, especially in a tropical equatorial climate with frequent lightning, heavy rainfall, and strong winds that can cause breakage of branches and uprooting due to soil erosion. Thus, many of those grown nearer to human traffic may have already been removed over the years. In fact, after googling more about the tree species, I found an article regarding NParks removing a patch of Albizia trees at the Bukit Batok Nature Park in 2017 due to safety concerns (See link). And specifically 10 years earlier in 2007, a Singaporean was crushed to death by a toppled Albizia tree, with two others injured (see link).
The two ways to identify an Albizia tree is its small compound leaves, smooth greyish bark. The other prominent features will be the tree cavities and broken branches. Read more to find out why.
Interestingly, the same characteristics that make Albizia trees potential safety hazards for humans also make them attractive to certain bird species, such as Lineated Barbets, Banded Woodpeckers, Long-Tailed Parakeets, Hill Mynas and Oriental Pied Hornbills (there may be many others which I have yet observed). The reason lies in the tree’s softer, lower-density wood, which is easier for woodpeckers to excavate cavities for nesting. Barbets may also exploit the more brittle or damaged areas with portions of dead wood to create their own cavities. In contrast, mynas, parakeets and hornbills often rely on existing cavities, using those vacated by other birds for nesting though they do have strong beaks to further shape the holes. Thus, the mynas, parakeets and hornbills are known as “secondary cavity nesters” i.e. they utilise cavities that have already been created by birds with strong beaks that are built for such purposes.
A Banded Woodpecker looking out of the cavity along Daily Farm Nature Park (between Singapore Quarry and MOE Dairy Farm Outdoor Adventure Learning Centre).A Long-Tailed Parakeet peering out from its home. There are so many other cavities above it. This explains why the integrity of the tree structure may be weak and hence a safety hazard.Two Long-Tailed Parakeets on an Albizia tree in either Rifle Range Nature Park or Hindhede Nature Park (I have forgotten where exactly I took this photograph).A Lineated Barbet further excavating a hole at Bidadari Park. It is not known if this is a dead Albizia that have been left there for birds to perch and nest (the bark seems too rough to be one). Bidadari used to have many Albizia trees before the park was opened (You may refer to one of the photographs from uforest)
The sparse foliage at the canopy of the Albizia tree also makes it an ideal spot for birders to look for raptors, which often perch on the tree’s horizontally stretching branches. This vantage point likely provides the raptors with an unobstructed view of potential prey from a significant height, a luxury not afforded by trees with denser canopies where leaves and branches would block their line of sight. In fact, the height, shape and structure of the branches also encourage raptors to construct their eyries on the Albizia canopy. This has been well-documented by many others. Below are some of the photographs taken by Gabriel and I that illustrate the above points.
An Oriental Pied Hornbill and a White-Bellied Sea Eagle perched on a dead Albizia tree in Punggol. Although the smooth grey bark hints at the tree’s identity, confirmation would ideally require the presence of leaves.A closer view of the smooth bark.A Changeable Hawk Eagle (dark-morphed) perched on an Albizia in Chua Chu Kang. (Photo by Gabriel Kang)The majestic pose of the Changeable Hawk Eagle. You can see the small leaflets of the Albizia in the background. (Photo by Gabriel Kang)Indeed, the Albizia tree is a favourite nesting place for raptors. You can see the eyrie (raptor’s nest) on this particular one in Chua Chu Kang. (Photo by Gabriel Kang)
I have also found a well-documented article from the journal publication “Nature in Singapore”, published by NUS whereby the Changeable Hawk Eagles and the Oriental Pied Hornbills nested on the Albizia in the Dover Forest. It is an enjoyable read for those who would like to find out more. (Click here to access the article)
In conclusion, the Albizia tree presents a complex trade-off between supporting biodiversity and posing safety risks to humans. Effective management of this dilemma requires a collaborative approach, with NParks working closely with the community and various stakeholders to make informed decisions that balance human safety with environmental conservation. Education plays a crucial role in this process, helping people understand the reasons behind tree removal and the importance of prioritising safety while supporting species biodiversity. For nature guides and birders, I hope this post provides valuable insights and fosters a deeper appreciation for the importance of flora in supporting the fauna we admire. Don’t forget your binoculars, as these trees are often located at a distance from walking paths for reasons already mentioned.
Thank you Siyang for providing information about the Albizia trees and Gabriel for the wonderful photos of the Changeable Hawk Eagles.
Disclaimer: The information provided in this blog post is for educational purposes only and should not be considered a substitute for professional medical or psychological advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Whilst Peter Levine’s work offers valuable insights into trauma healing, it’s crucial to remember that trauma is a complex and deeply personal experience. If you are dealing with trauma or suspect you may have experienced trauma, please seek support from a qualified mental health professional, such as a licensed therapist or counsellor specialising in trauma treatment. Only a trained professional can provide personalised care and appropriate interventions tailored to your specific needs.
Harnessing Nature’s Wisdom: Beyond Just Physical Resources
One of the raisons d’être for establishing birdbrainsg is to create a platform that champions the thoughtful integration of nature to provide a nurturing environment for human beings, supporting their physical recovery and emotional healing. Another fundamental principle driving our mission is the conviction that nature offers a wealth of wisdom beyond resources and technological advancements. While biomimicry, such as the kingfisher’s beak inspiring Japan’s Shinkansen design, showcases nature’s influence on innovation, we believe there are even deeper lessons to be gleaned from the natural world that can profoundly impact human well-being and personal growth.
“Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma” – a Book by Peter Levine
In this blog post, we delve into Peter Levine’s groundbreaking book, “Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma”. He is an American psycho-traumatologist, biophysicist and psychologist, and of course, an international best-seller author. This blog post summarises key insights from Levine’s research and practices, demonstrating how natural processes can be harnessed to overcome trauma. For those intrigued by this innovative approach to healing, we highly recommend exploring the entire book. It’s a fascinating journey into the intersection of nature, psychology, and human resilience.
More importantly, it is an incredibly accessible book. You don’t need to be a psychologist, neuroscientist, or therapist to appreciate its insights and value.
This is one of my must-read on the process of healing, amongst other books such as “The Body Keeps the Score” by Bessel van der Kol.
Somatic Experiencing – Understanding How Our Body Matters in Healing
Peter Levine’s groundbreaking book, “Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma”, offers an insight to understanding and healing trauma by drawing inspiration from the natural world. In this work, Levine explores how humans can learn from animals in the wild to overcome traumatic experiences and restore balance to their lives.
At the heart of Levine’s theory is the concept of somatic experiencing, which emphasises the body’s innate ability to heal itself. He argues that trauma is not just a psychological phenomenon but a physiological one, deeply rooted in our nervous system. By observing how animals in the wild naturally discharge the energy of traumatic events, Levine proposes that humans can tap into similar instinctual processes to heal their own trauma.
Levine points out that animals in the wild, despite facing life-threatening situations regularly, rarely exhibit long-lasting trauma symptoms. Instead, they have natural mechanisms to release the pent-up energy and return to a state of equilibrium.
Peter Levine describes the instinctive responses of prey when confronted by a predator. Initially, the prey may attempt to fight off the predator. If this proves ineffective, the flight response takes over. Should the predator outpace the prey, a freeze response may occur as a last-ditch survival mechanism. This freeze state serves multiple purposes:
It reduces the intensity of pain if attacked and devoured.
It may mislead the predator into thinking the prey is diseased or inedible.
It can make the prey harder to spot against its surroundings.
Importantly, if the prey manages to escape, it will often engage in a vigorous shaking behaviour. This seemingly violent trembling is actually a crucial process that helps release the built-up trauma and excess energy from the encounter, allowing the animal to return to a balanced state.
The shaking behavior after a trauma is essential for returning the body to balance. Yet, when humans display such behaviors, we may resist them for various reasons, thus suppressing the energy within.
In contrast, humans often suppress these natural responses due to social conditioning or the complexity of our cognitive processes. This suppression, as Levine argues, can lead to the development of chronic trauma symptoms. Many of us have experienced this urge to suppress our body’s natural reactions. For instance, I once tried to conceal intense trembling during a dental visit, driven by a misguided notion of masculine bravery. While this example pales in comparison to the severe trauma experienced by Levine’s patients (though I also do not want to downplay the intensity of own personal experience), it illustrates how we often resist our body’s instinctual responses. Levine suggests that by reconnecting with these instinctual responses and allowing our bodies to complete the natural cycle of activation and deactivation, we can begin the healing process.
Levine’s approach encourages us to pay close attention to bodily sensations and subtle internal shifts. By doing so, we can gradually release trapped energy and emotions, much like how a gazelle might shake off the residual tension after escaping a predator. This process of gentle, body-centred awareness allows for a more holistic healing experience that goes beyond traditional talk therapy.
This is a video excerpt featuring Peter Levine, Ph.D., from his video lecture entitled “How the Body Releases Trauma and Restores Goodness”. He shared how one of his patients healed from a trauma after his intervention and hence highlights the significance of releasing ‘trapped energy’ attributed to trauma.
The lessons from nature extend beyond individual healing. Levine’s work reminds us of the profound interconnectedness of all living beings and the wisdom inherent in natural processes. By observing the resilience of wildlife and ecosystems, we can gain valuable insights into our own capacity for adaptation and recovery.
In our modern world, where we are often disconnected from nature, Levine’s approach serves as a call to reconnect with our primal instincts and the natural environment. Practices such as mindful walks in nature, grounding exercises, and even observing animals in their natural habitats can all contribute to this healing process.
A Safe Space to Heal
Moreover, Levine’s work highlights the importance of creating safe spaces for healing, much like how animals seek secure environments to recover from threats. This concept can be applied to our personal lives, therapy settings, and even broader community structures to foster environments conducive to healing and growth. Levine has been quoted as saying, “Trauma is not what happens to us. But what we hold inside in the absence of an empathetic witness.” This highlights the importance of creating a safe space where these people feel seen, heard, and supported.
Conclusion
By embracing these lessons from nature, we can develop a more compassionate and effective approach to trauma healing. Levine’s insights encourage us to trust in our body’s wisdom and to view trauma not as a life sentence, but as an opportunity for transformation and growth.
In conclusion, “Waking the Tiger” offers an interesting perspective on trauma healing that bridges the gap between our modern human experience and our ancestral connections to the natural world.
Here are three key takeaways from Peter Levine’s groundbreaking work:
Body-Centred Healing: Trauma is not just psychological but deeply physiological. By paying attention to bodily sensations and allowing natural processes of activation and deactivation, we can release trapped energy and emotions, facilitating healing.
Learning from Nature: Animals in the wild demonstrate remarkable resilience in the face of constant threats. By observing and emulating their natural mechanisms for discharging traumatic energy, humans can tap into their own innate healing capacities.
Creating Safe Spaces: Just as animals seek secure environments to recover from threats, humans need safe spaces for healing.
By embracing these lessons from nature and Levine’s somatic experiencing approach, we can develop a more compassionate and effective approach to trauma healing, benefiting not only individuals struggling with trauma but also providing valuable insights for therapists, healthcare professionals, and anyone interested in holistic well-being.
Just One Tree’ is a blog series that explores how individual trees support life. Each post delves into the unique ecosystem centered around a single tree, showcasing its vital role in sustaining various forms of life.
In this inaugural post of the series, I spotlight a particular tree along Upper Serangoon Road. I discovered this arboreal wonder while cycling to buy the famous Yong’s Teochew Kueh for my parents on the 9th January 2025. The tree stands within the vicinity of Anderson Serangoon Junior College (formerly Serangoon Junior College, where I studied for three months before transferring to Anderson Junior College in Ang Mo Kio in 1999).
What caught my attention was the tree’s unusual appearance – it was completely stripped of its leaves. My immediate reaction was one of concern and curiosity: What had happened to this tree?
Upon closer observation, I noticed dangling aerial roots, a characteristic feature that left no doubt about its identity. This tree is a Ficus species, most likely a Ficus microcarpa, as it is one of the most common Ficus species grown in urban areas.
The location of the tree is pinned. I documented the details about this tree at the bus stop area on the 9th Jan 2025. (Source: Google Map)By referring to Google Streetview, I caught a glimpse of the tree’s former splendor. Examining its structure and leaf arrangement, I was able to rule out Ficus benjamina, as it lacks the characteristic droopy appearance. Unfortunately, the resolution wasn’t sufficient to discern the leaf shape, making a definitive identification impossible. (Source: Google Street View)The fate of the entire tree as of January 2025: The visible green patches belong to an unknown climber and some epiphytic plants, not to the Ficus itself.There are other flora species at the base of the Ficus. On the left, it looks like a Noni tree (Morinda citrifolia) with a palm species growing below it. On the right is probably a wild cinnamon tree (Cinnamomum iners).
What’s Causing the Treeto Become Botak?
I parked my bicycle at the bus stop and approached the fence. Immediately, I found the answer: caterpillars! And not just any caterpillars, but Clear-Winged Tussock Moth (Perina nuda) caterpillars. Also known as the Banyan Tussock Moth, they weren’t just crawling all over the fence; they were also on the bus stop, the walkway shelter, and even on the ground.
As I was photographing them, one fell on my neck. I instinctively brushed it away in fright, worried that its bristles might cause an allergic reaction (fortunately, they didn’t).
Sighted the first one on the fence.You can see 5 of them of varying sizes on the metal pillar of the sheltered walkway. There are also a couple of flattened ones on the walkway, either unknowingly crushed by bicycles, PMDs or pedestrians. This particular pupa at the top of the sheltered walkway has already eclosed (i.e. emerged as a moth).More pupae on the Wild Cinnamon PlantAnd a lot more on the Noni plant too.
Predators of the Caterpillars: A Search for Evidence
Having previously observed numerous cuckoos feasting on Phauda flammans caterpillars infesting a Ficus microcarpa in Jurong Lake Gardens, I hoped to see more cuckoos on this tree. I scanned closely for any fleeting movements against the bright afternoon sun. Instead of cuckoo-sized birds, I spotted two flycatchers darting around in their signature fly-catching moves, repeatedly returning to their ‘favorite’ perches after aerial forays.
Initially, I expected both to be common migrants – Asian Brown Flycatchers (Muscicapa dauurica). To my surprise, one of them has an orangey throat! It was a female Mugimaki Flycatcher (Ficedula mugimaki)! Interestingly, this uncommon visitor appeared very drowsy, frequently closing its eyes while perched on a branch.
I first sighted an Asian Brown Flycatcher flying around the tree. But I was not able to document if it ate any of the caterpillars or its adult moth. A Mugimaki Flycatcher on a tree along the highly urbanised Upper Serangoon Road.How cute it is with its eyes closed. A front view of the tired Mugimaki Flycatcher.It occasionally opened its eyes before flying to another branch.
Without photographic evidence of either flycatcher species feeding on the Clear-Winged Tussock Moths or their caterpillars, I couldn’t conclude whether these hairy caterpillars are part of their diet. This is in contrast to cuckoos, which have been documented feasting on Clear-Winged Tussock moths in my previous blog post. Nevertheless, I am quite positive that the flycatchers may be feeding on the smaller caterpillars or even the adult moths.
A Black-Naped Oriole was observed to be consuming something. But due to the many obstructing branches, it was impossible to get a clearer shot of the content it was feeding on. Nevertheless, I have seen orioles eating all sorts of caterpillars so I am sure it does consume the Tussock Moth caterpillars.
While photographing, an attendant, possibly ASRJC’s Operations Manager, approached and spoke with me. He shared his recent discovery of the infestation and mentioned that despite spraying copious amounts of pesticides, the caterpillars persisted. I suggested letting nature take its course, pointing out the presence of three insectivorous birds in the tree during our conversation as evidence of nature’s self-balancing mechanisms.
After capturing over a hundred photographs, I finally departed to purchase the Teochew kuehs. Just thinking about the Koo Chai Kueh (Teochew Chives Dumpling) is making my mouth water now.
Takeaway for Readers: Ficus – Nature’s Keystone Species
Ficus trees are commonly recognised as ‘keystone species’ – organisms that have a disproportionately large impact on their environment relative to their abundance. If removed, these trees can cause significant changes within the ecosystem. Given their elevated status in the ecological hierarchy, it’s always worthwhile to take a closer look at Ficus trees. By doing so, you’ll learn to appreciate how they support a diverse array of fauna species.
For wildlife photographers, learning to recognise different Ficus species can be immensely beneficial. These trees are often hotspots of biodiversity, attracting a wide variety of birds, mammals, and insects. By identifying Ficus trees in your area, you can increase your chances of capturing diverse wildlife interactions and behaviours. Whether you’re interested in photographing fruit-eating birds, nectar-feeding insects, insectivorous birds or even arboreal mammals, Ficus trees can serve as natural wildlife magnets, providing you with excellent photographic opportunities throughout the year.
Update: 24th March 2025
A wildlife enthusiast (Lui Nai Hui) just shared two photographs of a male Narcissus Flycatcher, Ficedula narcissina, spotted in Dairy Farm Nature Park) munching on a Stinging Nettle Slug, a caterpillar that has painful stings with venomous hairs.
These photo-evidences clearly demonstrate that Flycatchers, like cuckoos, can consume potentially venomous caterpillars. Based on this observation, I am confident that both the Asian Brown Flycatcher and the Mugimaki Flycatcher fed on the Clear-Winged Tussock Moth caterpillars infesting the tree.
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.
Mutualism in natural science refers to a symbiotic relationship between two different species where both organisms benefit from the interaction. This type of relationship is widespread in nature and plays a crucial role in many ecosystems.
Treehoppers (Membracidae) are small, fascinating insects known for their unique appearance. These tiny bugs, usually smaller than a fingernail, have unusual protrusions on their backs that help them blend in with plants. They use their sharp mouthparts to feed on tree sap, which can sometimes make them a nuisance to gardeners. With thousands of species worldwide, these odd-looking insects continue to intrigue both scientists and nature lovers, showcasing the incredible diversity of the insect world. In this post, I will be documenting the symbiotic relationship between treehoppers and ants, which is observed in Singapore.
An unidentified treehopper.
A Moment in Nature
In the fascinating world of insect interactions, treehoppers and ants have developed this mutually beneficial relationship. During a recent visit to Thomson Nature Park in Singapore, I observed a remarkable example of this symbiosis on the Singapore Rhododendron shrub (Melastoma malabathricum). The same observation was also recorded in Pulau Ubin on a Melastoma.
Singapore Rhododendron shrub (Melastoma malabathricum). Photo taken in Dairy Farm Nature Park.
A group of Red Weaver Ants (Oecophylla) was actively tending to numerous unidentified treehoppers along the plant’s stems. Upon closer inspection, it became apparent that the ants were gently stimulating the treehoppers, encouraging them to secrete honeydew – a sweet, nutrient-rich liquid that the ants consume.
Red weaver ants were actively ‘milking’ treehoppers for their honeydew, while a weevil stood by. Have you observe the bizarrely shaped pronotum on the treehoppers? That is where the two ‘horns’ are located. Photo taken along Old Upper Thomson Road.
Treehoppers benefit from the Red Weaver Ants’:
Protection from predators and parasites
Care for treehopper nymphs
Red Weaver Ants benefit from Treehoppers’:
Honeydew, a sweet substance excreted by treehoppers, which serves as a valuable food source
Another mutualistic relationship between the Red Weaver Ants and the Treehoppers (possibly Nilautama minutispina Funkhouser) was documented in Pulau Ubin. Photo Credit: Gabriel Kang
Next time you’re out in nature, take a moment to look closely at the plants around you. You might just witness your own example of mutualism in action between a treehopper and some ant species!
What About other Hoppers?
At this juncture, I am unsure if there are any mutualistic relationship between these other hoppers and ants.
Now, let us dwell into some basic background knowledge on leafhoppers, froghoppers and planthoppers, at least by their common names.
These other hoppers belong to the order Hemiptera, commonly known as True Bugs. These insects are characterised by their sucking mouthparts and a developmental stage called “nymph” before reaching adulthood. While Leafhoppers, Treehoppers, and Spittlebugs share a closer evolutionary relationship with Cicadas, Planthoppers are slightly more distant relatives within the order. As their names suggest, most possess the ability to jump, which aids in their survival and dispersal.
Captured in various locations across the island of Singapore, these images of planthoppers, froghoppers and leafhoppers offer a glimpse into the unique characteristics and behaviors of these intriguing insects.
Planthoppers have antennae attached below the eyes, on the sides of the head.
Planthopper, Ricanula stigmatica.Planthopper Ricanula sublimata. Another one from the Ricanula genus that mimics moths. Probably the biggest one I have seen so far.Long-nosed planthopper, Dictyopharidae Raivuna Derbid Planthopper. This one holds its wings in a V-shaped.Planthopper nymph, likely from the Flatidae family
While hiking, if you notice what appears to be spit on a plant stem, gently remove some of the froth to reveal the tiny culprit: a soft-bodied, wingless nymph of a froghopper (spittlebug). As they mature, froghoppers develop a distinctive “frog-like” appearance, with a wider rear end than front, and impressive jumping ability.
Protective ‘spit’ that gives the froghoppers its spittlebug ID.Plinia ampla. Froghopper (Spittlebug)Clovia sp. Froghopper (Spittlebug)Ptyelinellus praefractus Froghopper (Spittlebug)
Leafhoppers may be mistaken for cicadas due to their similar body shape, but are much smaller. To identify them, look for the distinctive rows of tiny spines on the hind legs, specifically on the shin area. Their bodies tend to be straight-sided or tapered toward the rear.
Bothrogonia addita, also known as ‘Orange Sharpshooter’, is another leafhopper that is longish with a tapered end. Unknown leafhopper. Photo taken in Singapore, Dairy Farm Nature Park. A top view of the leafhopper to appreciate its tapered back.
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!
When we encounter young people with a deep passion for nature, we aim to nurture their meaningful pursuits. This blog post introduces Claire, a 16-year-old birding enthusiast I met during my guided nature walk in Pulau Ubin with the Humanities Club tuition centre. Her enthusiasm for birds is truly inspiring, and I hope her story will spark a similar appreciation for nature in others.
Mr. Joshua Lawrence and I, in yellow, with the rest of the wonderful participants for the guided nature walk in Pulau Ubin. Claire is indicated by the arrow pointing at her.
Claire has developed a particular affinity for birds, with a special fondness for Oriental Pied Hornbills. Her father, recognising her interest, has supported her passion by organising birdwatching trips to various locations, including Lorong Halus-Coney Island and Singapore Botanic Gardens.
As our group assembled at the Changi Village jetty, waiting to board our boat, Mr. Joshua Lawrence, the boss of the Humanities Club tuition centre, introduced me as the nature guide and a fellow birding enthusiast. Claire’s eyes immediately brightened, and she eagerly shared her birding experiences. She even showed me impressive footage she had captured of Golden-Backed Weavers constructing their nests in the Lorong Halus area.
Yesterday, I received a beautiful drawing from Claire, which she had submitted for the SG60 Design Pompipi competition. While her work didn’t make it to the final, I believe it deserves a wider audience, especially from our local birding community! I love how she deliberately included the silhouette of a mystery bird – as it reminds me of “Who’s that Pokémon?”. Claire shared with me, “Sometimes, I see the silhouette of big birds in the sky and I wonder what they are. So I just drew it in relation to that.”
Here it is, along with Claire’s description:
Title: “Birding at Gardens by the Bay”
Singapore has been developing for over 60 years, focusing on integrating nature into urban architecture. A prime example is the Supertrees at Gardens by the Bay, which mimic mature rainforest trees. These structures not only resemble trees but also host various live plants, including orchids and ferns.
My drawing illustrates how successfully we’ve incorporated nature into our urban landscape. It depicts birds at Gardens by the Bay, showcasing the harmony between our built environment and wildlife. As someone who is fond of birdwatching, I’ve included people engaging in birdwatching activities and featured various bird species found in Singapore. Can you name all the birds?
This artwork represents the successful blend of urban development and nature conservation in Singapore, highlighting how our city has become a haven for both people and wildlife.
I hope you enjoy Claire’s artwork as much as I have. It’s a testament to the passion and talent of our young nature enthusiasts.
Do you remember the Flappy Bird mobile phone game launched in 2013? The goal was to navigate a small bird through a series of obstacles, primarily green pipes reminiscent of those in Super Mario Bros. While this game was a simplified, virtual challenge, it inadvertently mirrors a real-world issue: the struggles of migratory birds in urban environments.
Migratory birds do face significant challenges while navigating Singapore’s urban landscape. These feathered visitors must contend with a complex maze of commercial skyscrapers, residential buildings (HDBs), bridges, and other man-made structures, reminiscent of the digital bird in Flappy Bird dodging obstacles. For example, in November 2023, a Peregrine falcon suffered a collision injury in Sengkang. Fortunately, it was successfully rehabilitated and subsequently released back into the wild (click here for the article).
Crest Secondary School – A Haven for Local Avian Wildlife
At my previous workplace, Crest Secondary School (a specialised school for students who are eligible for Posting Group 1), I earned the nickname ‘Birdman’ because of my love for birds. Whenever bird identification was needed, my colleagues would reach out to me.
The school boasts a spacious pond and a beautiful garden maintained by our beloved gardener, Auntie May, making it a haven for a diverse array of birds, both common urban dwellers and more exotic visitors. Beyond the usual Spotted and Zebra Doves, Javan and Common Mynas, Eurasian Tree Sparrows, House Crows, and Asian Glossy Starlings, the school compound has hosted a variety of other species.
Male Brown-Throated Sunbird photographed in the school’s Garden of Hope – the name bestowed to the garden. Credit: Gabriel Kang
Asian Koels frequent our mulberry tree, their distinctive calls often rivalling the school’s National Anthem in volume. Brown-Throated and Ornate Sunbirds are regular visitors to our ginger plants, while Collared Kingfishers can be spotted perched on the school roof, their calls resonating across the campus. Blue-Throated Bee-eaters adorn the rooftop antenna, and Rose-Ringed Parakeets feast on the fruits of our peacock flower shrubs. A resident Ashy Tailorbird adds its chirps to the chorus of student voices along the corridors.
Here is just a part of the entire garden in Crest Secondary School
When mango season arrives, we’re treated to visits from Coconut Lorikeets and Blue-Crowned Hanging Parrots, eager to join the fruity feast near the school carpark. Even Smooth-Coated Otters have made appearances, though their visits to our eco-pond have sometimes left a few fish casualties.
During migratory seasons between September and March, the school becomes a temporary home to unexpected avian guests, further enriching our wildlife experience.
Blue-Winged Pitta Trapped in Butterfly Enclosure
One such memorable incident occurred on 25th October 2018, involving a Blue-Winged Pitta (Pitta moluccensis). This migratory bird found itself in a series of misadventures on our school grounds. Initially, the Pitta had a close call when it collided with a classroom door while being chased by our resident cat. I intervened, shooing away the cat, and was relieved to see the Pitta, though startled, remain active and mobile. After that, I had to rush for lessons and couldn’t find time to attend to it. Later that afternoon, a colleague alerted me to the Pitta’s predicament – it had become trapped inside our Butterfly Enclosure, unable to find its way out.
Trapped inside the school’s Butterfly Enclosure
Recognising the urgency of the situation, I carefully removed the confused Pitta and placed it in a quiet box to recover from its stressful day. After allowing sufficient time for the bird to calm down, I chose a location for its release with great care. The school’s open field seemed ideal, offering ample space for take-off while being far from our resident cat. The latter consideration was particularly important, given the Pitta’s ground-feeding habits which make it vulnerable to feline predators. As I opened the box, the resilient Pitta took flight, disappearing into the distance – hopefully to find a safer temporary home on its migratory journey.
A closer view of it before I grabbed it and placed it in a box.I still remember the warmth on my palm and how it pecked me before I placed it gently into a box.
Black-Backed Dwarf Kingfisher Crashes into School
During my temporary absence from the school between 2019 and 2020, my reputation as the ‘Birdman’ lingered on. On one occasion, a colleague texted me about an exciting discovery: a Black-Backed Dwarf Kingfisher (formerly known as the Oriental Dwarf Kingfisher) had been found on school grounds. In the birding community, such a sighting would typically draw huge crowds eager to photograph this rare species, yet it had simply landed in Crest Secondary School. I simply advise them to contact ACRES (Animal Concerns Research and Education Society). The rare visitor was likely rescued and safely relocated as a result of this intervention.
To clarify, I am not trained in bird rescue. When such situations arise, I follow the expert guidance provided by ACRES. I have contacted them on several occasions to seek advice and assistance.
Unexpected Classroom Visitor: A Sparrowhawk’s Misadventure
On 15th February 2023, a Sparrowhawk (ID-ed by Tou Jing Yi as a Japanese Sparrowhawk) – Tachyspiza gularis, flew into a classroom during a Mother Tongue lesson. The bird collided with a glass window pane and fell to the floor, where it lay stiff but still breathing. Following ACRES’ advice, I examined the bird for injuries and sent a video to ACRES via WhatsApp for further guidance.
I then placed the Sparrowhawk in a cardboard box, included a bottle of warm water to maintain a suitable temperature within the box in the air-conditioned room, and covered it with a towel, leaving a gap for air circulation. We monitored the bird’s condition, keeping in touch with ACRES, for 3-4 hours before attempting to release it in an open field. It took two attempts before the Sparrowhawk successfully flew off into the open sky.
The sparrowhawk in a state of shock after falling off from the glass window pane
Not All Survived: The Black Bittern’s Last Flight
While we had a fair share of successful releases, one particular incident still haunts me to this day.
It was an ordinary morning when I received a call from a colleague. “There’s a bird sprawled on the ground outside the administrative block,” they said, concern evident in their voice. I rushed to the scene, wondering if it was a spotted dove or a rock pigeon.
As I approached, I immediately recognised the distressed creature – a Black Bittern (Botaurus flavicollis), a relatively uncommon migrant in our urban landscape. The bird was struggling and clearly in distress. My instincts kicked in, and I prepared my usual tools: an empty printing paper cardboard box and a soft towel.
Cautiously, I began to approach the Bittern. As I drew near, the Bittern, spooked by my presence, mustered what seemed to be its last reserves of strength. In a desperate attempt to escape, it launched itself into the air. The bird, disoriented and weak, flew directly into the building’s wall and plummeted two storeys to the ground.
As I stood there, shocked and guilt-stricken, I noticed a faint imprint left on the wall – a poignant reminder of the Bittern’s final flight. Could I have approached differently? Should I have been quicker? These questions plagued my mind, but I knew dwelling on them wouldn’t change the outcome.
A black bittern was discovered by a colleague to have clashed into our school building. While approaching it to put in into a box, it was spooked and clashed into the wall again, dying instantly. The carcass was collected by NUS for research.
Instead of calling ACRES (Animal Concerns Research and Education Society), I contacted Lee Kong Chian Natural History Museum (LKCNHM) to collect the bird’s lifeless body for research purposes (see contacts at the bottom of this post).
Contacted LKCNHM via Telegram for collection of the carcass. Update: the telegram is no longer in use.
BASIC ‘FIRST-AID’ FOR A BIRD IN SHOCK DUE TO COLLISON
ACRES has been invaluable over the years, consistently providing assistance when we’ve reached out. Even after my departure from the school, my colleagues have continued to rely on their expertise. I recall instances where ACRES even aided injured sparrow nestlings. However, as a charity organisation managing wildlife-related requests across Singapore with limited resources, they undoubtedly face significant challenges in meeting the demands of their crucial work.
Given the challenges faced by wildlife rescue organisations, it’s beneficial for individuals to have some basic knowledge of animal care. ACRES has provided valuable information on responding to “birds in shock”, which can serve as a useful form of triage in such situations.
The information above was sent via the ACRES WhatsApp, and it has been helpful in sharing this information with my former colleagues.
A crucial point to emphasise is the importance of refraining from feeding or giving water to a bird in shock. While many people’s natural instinct is to offer food or water when they encounter a distressed bird, this can actually be harmful. Despite good intentions, it’s not the correct course of action for a bird in shock.
Thank you ACRES for your services and always seeking better ways to support your cause. And also to all others parties such as NPark’s Animal Response Centre as well as LKCNHM’s deadbird hotline services.
To support with bird collision research, please help to fill up the details in the link provided by Nature Society Singapore (see external link for more details but I am not sure if the research is an ongoing one).
Happy 2025 to the Staff & Students of Crest Secondary School
Last but certainly not least, a heartfelt shout-out to the dedicated teachers at Crest Secondary School who continue to serve their educational mission with passion. A special mention goes to Auntie May for her tireless efforts in maintaining the school’s beautiful garden. To all the staff, we wish you the very best as you attend to your students’ needs. Stay well and keep up the fantastic work!
Some of the very dedicated teachers from Crest Secondary School. While two of us in the photograph (including myself, seated in the center) have left the school, the rest of the teachers continue to serve the students. It’s worth noting how dense the garden can be at certain parts of the school, adding to the campus’s unique charm.
Peeling Back Memories: How Milk Tins Unveiled Nature’s Wonders to 80s Kids
As a kid growing up in the 80s, few thrills matched hearing Mum unpack milk tins after her grocery run. It wasn’t just about the creamy goodness inside; for me, the real excitement lay in carefully peeling off the labels to reveal hidden treasures.
These weren’t ordinary labels, but windows into natural marvels. Each one showcased vivid depictions of birds, fish, or exotic plants not typically sighted in our neighbourhoods, providing glimpses of a world far beyond our urban surroundings.
Notice the instructions for feeding condensed milk to infants. I guess formula milk wasn’t as accessible then, and people were generally poorer during that time.My favourite out of all these labels is the Three-Spot Gourami as I used to keep them in my aquarium.The “Common Shama” (Copsychus Malabaricus) is now known as “White-Rumped Shama”
I can’t help but wonder if others share similar fond memories. Do you, too, recall the excitement of carefully peeling off Milkmaid labels, revealing a hidden world of exquisite flora and fauna illustrations? I’d love to hear your stories and experiences – did you collect these labels, trade them with friends, or simply admire them before discarding?
Thank you Milkmaid for such wonderful memories! (The above are my personal collections).