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!
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.
Remember those colourful Panini sticker albums from the 80s and 90s? They weren’t just fun collectibles – they played a surprising role in nurturing a generation’s love for wildlife and nature! For many of us, these sticker books were our first window into the fascinating world of animals, sparking curiosity and passion that would last a lifetime.
A page from “The World of Survival” by Panini.
In those pre-internet days, our Panini sticker books held an even more special place in our hearts and minds. Without the instant access to information we have today, we couldn’t just Google what a particular creature looked like or how it behaved. This limitation turned each new sticker into a thrilling discovery. When we finally got that sticker of an animal we’d never seen before, it was like unlocking a secret of the natural world.
My own journey into the world of Panini stickers began with a humorous misunderstanding. At a local shop in an old Hougang Estate (Block 11A, now demolished), I eagerly asked for the “Our World of Endangered Species” sticker album. The shopkeeper, bless her heart, misunderstood completely. She thought I was asking for an ‘inappropriate’ magazine, likely confusing it with “Her World”! It took some browsing and pointing to the actual album before she realised her mistake and allowed me to make my purchase. That small incident marked the beginning of my Panini sticker collecting adventure and, unknowingly, set me on a path to a deeper interest in wildlife.
Block 11A in an old Hougang Estate which has since been demolished.Took a few photographs of this memorable place where I bought my wildlife related panini stickers from before it finally closed down and demolished.
Panini’s wildlife sticker books brought the animal kingdom right into children’s hands. Each vibrant sticker showcased a different creature, accompanied by fascinating facts. As we eagerly filled our albums, we were unknowingly embarking on a global wildlife tour. These weren’t just pictures – they were gateways to understanding the diverse and sometimes threatened animal kingdom.
My personal collection – “The World of Survival” which was sold in Singapore in the late 80s.
Popular titles, available in Singapore, like “The World of Survival” and “Our World of Endangered Species” became treasured possessions. Despite their cost, these sticker books provided the perfect blend of entertainment and education. We absorbed knowledge about various species, their habitats, and even snippets of conservation issues, all while enjoying the thrill of collection.
The stickers of the wildlife have been classified under different habitats.
The excitement extended beyond personal collections, transforming the playground into a bustling marketplace of childhood treasures. Trading missing stickers with friends became a cherished ritual, much like the exchanges of country erasers, marbles, and stamps that defined our school days.
The pursuit of completing our albums led to some entrepreneurial endeavours among classmates, with some young minds setting up impromptu sticker ‘shops’. However, these budding businesses were short-lived, as the school’s vigilant discipline mistress swiftly clamped down on student-to-student sales. I vividly remember the day a stack of my precious Panini stickers was confiscated, purchased from a classmate who displayed remarkable business acumen at such a tender age. Despite the risks, these small acts of rebellion only heightened the thrill of the chase, adding an extra layer of excitement to our quest for a complete collection, which never did happen. Haha.
Boys will be boys! I couldn’t resist the allure of the more dangerous creatures in my sticker collections. The cobra, scorpions, and spider stickers were always among my favourites.And of course, the venomous Gila Monster! The author has indicated the caption wrongly as venomous animals inject their toxins, typically through bites or stings. Poisonous organisms, on the other hand, are toxic when ingested or touched. The Gila Monster delivers its venom through a bite, making it venomous.
Empty spaces in the album pique interest, especially with the accompanying captions in the absence of visuals. Children would imagine the features of the creatures that might fill those gaps, fostering a sense of wonder about unknown species. What could the missing animal look like? Perhaps it has iridescent scales that shimmer like rainbows, or maybe it possesses eyes that glow in the dark.
A special excitement came from the animal pictures that needed two stickers to finish. These bigger images made collecting even more fun. Putting together these double-sticker images was like completing a mini-puzzle, giving us a closer look at these amazing animals. It felt fantastic when we finally got both halves, making the whole wildlife adventure more real and unforgettable. It’s as if the album itself is whispering, “This creature is so extraordinary, it can’t be contained in a single sticker!”
One of my favourite double-sticker photograph was the frigate bird (Fregatidae). I was amazed by its huge, bright red throat pouch that looked almost like a giant human tongue!
Those who collected Panini stickers from “The World of Survival” would likely remember the frigate birds.Another double-sticker portrait that I remember vividly is the Monarch butterflies! Probably due to my fear of them as a result of the SBC show 迷离夜. Didn’t enjoy piecing this puzzle together because it was too horrifying.The back of the Panini book.
In conclusion, Panini sticker books played a significant role in nurturing a love for wildlife among children of the 70s, 80s, and 90s. These colourful albums did more than just entertain; they educated, inspired curiosity, and fostered a deeper appreciation for the natural world.
By bringing exotic and endangered species into our everyday lives, Panini stickers sparked conversations, encouraged learning, and created lasting memories. The excitement of collecting, trading, and completing these albums laid the foundation for many lifelong interests in nature and conservation.
Allow us to introduce ourselves in a rather unconventional way. I’m Homo sapiens lucasensis trisilva, but you can call me Lucas Teo – that’s my ‘common name’. And joining me in this birdbrain adventure is my partner-in-crime, Homo sapien Gabriellus auricomus agaricus, better known as Gabriel Kang. Curious about Gabriel’s quirky scientific name? Check out his profile picture on his instagram i.e. gabriel.birdbrain (Hint: Google the meaning of auricomus and agaricus).
Anyway, here’s a thought experiment: try Googling “Lucas Teo” or “Gabriel Kang”. How many results do you get? Quite a few, I’d wager. This little exercise brings us to an intriguing question: Why do scientific names matter?
None of them is me. As a nobody, I wouldn’t be in the top searches.
The Challenge of Common Names
Common names, while convenient for everyday use within the same geographical area, culture and language, may lead to confusion and ambiguity in scientific contexts when applied across cultural and political boundaries.
Let’s consider the common kingfisher (Alcedo atthis) as an example. This striking blue and orange bird, found across Eurasia, is known by several names in English alone:
Common Kingfisher
Eurasian Kingfisher
European Kingfisher
River Kingfisher
Small Blue Kingfisher
Common Kingfisher shot in Jurong Lake Gardens (Credit: Gabriel Kang)
This diversity of names within a single language demonstrates the potential for confusion in scientific communication. The situation becomes even more complex when we consider names in other languages and cultures. For instance, in French, it’s known as “Martin-pêcheur d’Europe”, while in German, it’s called “Eisvogel” (ice bird). In Chinese, it’s fondly referred to as “Xiao Cui” (小翠). Such linguistic and cultural variations highlight the need for a standardised naming system in scientific contexts.
When the Common Names Mean Different Things in Different Countries
Many common names are based on physical descriptions, which can lead to further confusion. For instance, “bluebird” might refer to several different species across various families. In North America alone, there is a Western Bluebird (Sialia mexicana) and a Mountain Bluebird (Sialia currucoides)… and I believe there is also a Eastern Bluebird (Sialia sialis)?
While these birds share a similar blue colouration, they are distinct species with different hunting styles (though with many other similar behaviours and traits). Moreover, other blue-coloured birds like the Blue Grosbeak (Passerina caerulea) or Indigo Bunting (Passerina cyanea) might also be mistakenly called “bluebirds” by casual observers.
To further complicate matters, the term “bluebird” isn’t limited to North American species. In Singapore, we have our own Asian Fairy Bluebird (Irena puella), a strikingly beautiful bird with vibrant blue plumage. Despite its common name, this species is not closely related to the North American bluebirds. It belongs to a different family altogether (Irenidae) – related to leafbirds, while the North American bluebirds are members of the thrush family (Turdidae).
A female Asian-Fairy Bluebird photographed in Dairy Farm Nature Park, Singapore (Credit: Gabriel Kang)A male Asian Fairy Bluebird photographed in Dairy Farm Nature Park, Singapore (Credit: Gabriel Kang)
This example illustrates how common names can be misleading across continents. A birdwatcher familiar with North American bluebirds might be quite surprised to encounter the Asian Fairy Bluebird, which has a different appearance, behaviour, and ecological niche.
This issue extends beyond birds. The term “silverfish” is used for a specific insect (Lepisma saccharina), but can also represent the Antarctic silverfish (Pleuragramma antarctica), also known as the Antarctic herring – a true fish that swims in the sea. This example further illustrates how common names can lead to confusion across different animal groups, potentially causing misunderstandings in scientific discourse.
A silverfish is not a fish, but rather an insect, other than pelagic fish – Antarctic silverfish native to the Southern Ocean near Antarctica
These examples highlight how common names based on physical descriptions can be misleading, as many different species may share similar physical features. This is where scientific names become invaluable.
When the “Common” May Not Be Common
Sometimes, we see the adjective “common” being used to describe a bird or other aspects of the nature world. It may be misleading like a misnomer. I will be sharing two examples to illustrate this point i.e. the Common Myna (Acridotheres tristis) as well as the Common Kingfisher (Alcedo atthis).
The use of the adjective “common” to describe birds or other aspects of the natural world can sometimes be misleading or act as a misnomer. Two examples that illustrate this point are the Common Myna (Acridotheres tristis) and the Common Kingfisher (Alcedo atthis).
In the context of Singapore, the Common Myna is ironically no longer commonly seen, despite being a native species known for its high adaptability to urban environments. This decline is primarily due to the introduction of the Javan Myna (Acridotheres javanicus), a species originating from Java, an island in Indonesia in the 1920s. The Javan Myna has outcompeted its “common” counterpart, likely due to its superior ability to exploit limited nesting cavities in urban structures and trees. This competition has caused the Common Myna’s population to decrease significantly in Singapore. In fact, it is likely that the Javan Myna is the most common bird in Singapore right now. You may refer to this very comprehensive article from Bird Ecology Study Group to understand reasons behind their ubiquitous presence.
A Javan Myna perching on urban structures in a regular HDB settingA lone common Myna at Lorong Halus Wetland.
This example highlights how the term “common” in a species’ name may not always reflect its current prevalence in a given ecosystem, especially when factors like introduced species and habitat changes come into play.
During the migratory season, one of the kingfisher species that arrives in Singapore is the Common Kingfisher (Alcedo atthis). Despite its name, this bird is not commonly seen in Singapore, even during migration periods. The term “common” in its name refers to its prevalence in its native range, not its abundance in Singapore.
In contrast, the most frequently observed kingfishers in Singapore are:
The Collared Kingfisher (Todiramphus chloris)
The White-Throated Kingfisher (Halcyon smyrnensis)
A Collared Kingfisher feasting on an insect. Credit: Gabriel KangWhite-Throated Kingfisher shot near Pasir Ris Farmway area.
These observations, based on local birding experiences, highlight how the word “common” in a species’ name can be misleading when applied to different geographical contexts.
When Descriptors in Common Names Aren’t Unique
Two species of bee-eaters found in Singapore, the Blue-Tailed Bee-eater (Merops philippinus) and the Blue-Throated Bee-eater (Merops viridis), serve as excellent examples to illustrate why common names can sometimes be problematic for bird identification.
Both species actually have blue tails, which makes the “Blue-Tailed” descriptor in the common name of Merops philippinus potentially confusing. This shared characteristic demonstrates how common names can sometimes fail to highlight distinguishing features between similar species.
The key difference between these two bee-eaters lies in their throat colouration:
The Blue-Tailed Bee-eater (Merops philippinus) has a chestnut-coloured throat.
The Blue-Throated Bee-eater (Merops viridis), as its name suggests, has a blue throat.
Notice that the Blue-Throated Bee-Eater also has a blue tail. Credit: Gabriel KangBlue-Tailed Bee-Eaters perched on a tree looking for their next victims in Lorong Halus.
This example highlights the importance of looking beyond common names when identifying birds. For instance, considering the time of year can be crucial, as Blue-Tailed Bee-Eaters are not present in Singapore during the non-migratory season. More specifically, in this case, examining the throats of both bee-eaters provides a more reliable distinguishing characteristic.
Whilst common names can be helpful, they may not always capture the most distinctive features of a species, especially when comparing closely related birds. By focusing on these specific details, birdwatchers can more accurately identify and differentiate between these similar species, regardless of potentially misleading common names.
The Binomial Nomenclature
Scientific names provide a standardised system recognised globally. The scientific naming system indeed consists of two main components, described as:
Genus (e.g., Alcedo): Represents a group of closely related species. It is the generic name of the species.
Specific epithet (e.g., atthis): The second part of the scientific name that, together with the genus, identifies the specific organism. It is the specific name of the species.
The term ‘species name’ in scientific contexts refers to the complete scientific name, which is the combination of the genus and the specific epithet. This system is known as binomial nomenclature. In the case of the common kingfisher, Alcedo atthis, ‘Alcedo‘ is the genus and ‘atthis‘ is the specific epithet. Together, they form the species’ scientific name. This two-part system provides a unique identifier for each species within a genus, although the same specific epithet may be used in different genera. The genus is always capitalised, while the specific epithet is always in lowercase, and both are typically italicised or underlined when written.
Note: In some cases, scientists may use additional classification levels, such as subspecies, to denote distinct populations within a species or other taxonomic ranks to further classify organisms. However, the genus and species form the core of scientific naming.
The Importance of Scientific Names
Scientific names serve several crucial functions in biological research and conservation:
Precision in Communication: They provide distinctions between species of the same genus (which causes them to have similar characteristics), such as the common kingfisher (Alcedo atthis) and the blue-eared kingfisher (Alcedo meninting), or between the North American bluebirds (Sialia spp.) and the Asian Fairy-bluebird (Irena puella).
Evolutionary Understanding: These names reflect our current understanding of species relationships and evolutionary history. The first part of a scientific name, the genus, groups closely related species together. For example, between Homo sapiens (modern humans), Homo neanderthalensis (Neanderthals) and Homo erectus (an extinct human species), all these species share the genus Homo, indicating that scientists believe they are closely related and share a recent common ancestor.
Overcoming Descriptive Limitations: Unlike common names, scientific names are not entirely based on overly simplistic physical appearances, which can be deceiving. They provide a unique identifier for each species, regardless of how similar the species may look to others.
The Human-Cultural Element in Scientific Naming
While scientific names are primarily functional, they occasionally reflect human creativity, humour, and even diplomacy. For instance, the Spongiforma squarepantsii: A mushroom species named after the cartoon character SpongeBob SquarePants.
The recently discovered fungus species found in Borneo’s forests has been named Spongiforma squarepantsii, drawing inspiration from a popular cartoon character. (Image credit: Tom Bruns, U.C. Berkeley)
In another instance, a moth species, Neopalpa donaldtrumpi, as you can see, is named after President Donald Trump due to its golden scales on its head that looks like the president’s hair colour and style (Read this article for more details).
An intriguing example of the intersection between scientific naming and diplomacy can be found in Singapore’s practice of naming new orchid hybrids after visiting political leaders or important figures. This tradition, known as “orchid diplomacy”, began in 1957 and has since become a significant honour bestowed upon state visitors.
This practice not only showcases Singapore’s rich botanical heritage but also creates a lasting scientific legacy of diplomatic visits. Each of these specially bred hybrids receives a unique scientific name, following the International Code of Nomenclature for algae, fungi, and plants, while also carrying the name of the honoured guest.
These examples demonstrate how scientific naming can transcend mere classification to become a form of cultural expression, historical record-keeping, and even a tool for international relations.
Conclusion
Scientific names, whilst some of us find challenging to pronounce, serve as a universal language in the natural sciences. They provide precise identification, facilitate global communication among researchers, and offer insights into evolutionary relationships. Most importantly, they overcome the limitations of common names, especially those based on potentially misleading physical descriptions.
Whether it’s Homo sapiens, Alcedo atthis, Irena puella, or Spongiforma squarepantsii, each scientific name encapsulates a wealth of information about an organism’s identity and place in the vast tapestry of life. As we continue to explore and understand the biodiversity of our planet, the importance of this standardised naming system becomes increasingly apparent.
The next time you encounter a scientific name, consider it not just as a label, but as a key to unlocking a deeper understanding of the natural world. And let’s be honest, there’s a certain satisfaction in being able to remember and pronounce these names correctly among your fellow nature enthusiasts. It’s not about feeling superior, but rather about sharing a common language that connects us to the fascinating world of biodiversity.
Nevertheless, while scientific names are crucial for precise identification and communication in academic and professional settings, common names still have their place. For hobbyists and enthusiasts, using familiar, local names in casual conversations is perfectly acceptable and often more practical.
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.
My fascination with seashore creatures began in my childhood, rooted in frequent visits to Pasir Ris beach with my father in the 1980s and 1990s. His mother and sister lived nearby, giving us the perfect excuse to explore this coastal haven.
Those trips left indelible memories:
The elusive mudskippers, tiny and impossibly quick, always evading our grasp
Baby squids, their defense mechanism on full display as they turned white after expelling their ink (a stress response to our curious prodding)
Black Eeltail catfish (Plotosus canius), camouflaged among the ‘sea litter’ – dried leaves, seaweed and even rubbish, waiting to be discovered. Dad warned us against the venomous spines.
The harmless Sand Bubbler Crabs (Scopimera and Dotilla spp.), which left holes on the sandy beaches.
A Sand Bubbler Crab filtering for food from the balls of sand.
Armed with the beloved $5 guidebook – “A Guide to Seashore Life” published by the Singapore Science Centre – I embarked on a journey of discovery. This pocket-sized treasure trove became my trusted companion, helping me decipher the identities of various sea creatures.
In those carefree days, our curiosity often led us to capture fascinating marine creatures and bring them home. Sadly, most perished within days, with only the hardy catfish surviving for months. Looking back with regret, it’s striking how different our mindset and approach were then:
• Wildlife conservation wasn’t yet a widespread concept • Our interactions with nature were driven primarily by personal curiosity and fun • We didn’t fully grasp the impact of removing creatures from their natural habitats
This reflection serves as a poignant reminder of how our understanding and relationship with nature have evolved. While those experiences sparked a lifelong interest in marine life, they also highlight the importance of conservation and responsible interaction with ecosystems.
A Return to the Shore: Guided Intertidal Walk at Changi Beach
Fast forward to last week, and I found myself embarking on my first guided intertidal walk. Organised by “Just Keep Thinking” and led by the renowned MJ Biogal, this excursion took place at Changi Beach, right beside the Ferry Terminal to Pulau Tekong. Arriving early, my friend and I seized the opportunity for some impromptu bird watching. We spotted White-Bellied Sea Eagles, Long-Tailed Parakeets, and Collared Kingfishers, along with the Common Mynas, Javan Mynas and House Crows.
White-Bellied Sea Eagle (Icthyophaga leucogaster) Clutches a Catfish in its TalonsA pair of collared kingfishers (Todiramphus chloris) perched on the Casuarina tree (Casuarina equisetifolia)
MJ Biogal, our guide, proved to be a passionate advocate for environmental conservation, truly walking the talk. Her approach to the intertidal walk was a stark contrast to my childhood experiences. She enforced firm guidelines, prohibiting the digging out of creatures and touching, especially venomous species like fire worms and bristle worms. Throughout the walk, MJ actively educated the public, reminding other beachgoers to leave creatures undisturbed.
MJ Biogal with one of her fans.
During the Covid-19 pandemic in 2021, MJ raised awareness about the mistreatment of marine life, notably calling out those skewering through Sand Dollars (Clypeasteroida), like meat chunks on a satay stick, killing them right in front of her eyes. It was a powerful reminder of the need to balance our curiosity with respect for marine life and their habitats and there is a lot more to be done to educate the public.
During our guided walk, our group of 36 was divided into smaller clusters, each led by an experienced guide. I found myself in a group led by Jerryl, an avid diver with aspirations of becoming a marine biologist. Our exploration began with a molted flower crab shell. When a young boy in our group mistook it for a dead crab, Jerryl seized the opportunity for an impromptu learning session.
Defensive Dance: A Flower Crab (Portunus pelagicus) Raises Its Claws in a Bold Stand-off
Using engaging questioning techniques, Jerryl sparked curiosity among the group, particularly exciting two enthusiastic boys. “What are the tell-tale signs that this isn’t a dead crab?” he asked, encouraging critical thinking and observation. This interactive approach not only corrected misconceptions but also kindled a deeper interest in marine life among the participants.
As we gathered around, Jerryl revealed the fascinating details that distinguish a molted shell from a dead crab:
The Missing Eyes: In a freshly dead crab, the eyes are still visible. However, on a molted shell, you won’t find any eyes. This absence is a clear sign that what we’re looking at is just the discarded outer layer of the crab.
The Gap: A key indicator is the noticeable gap between the molt. This separation occurs as the crab sheds its old exoskeleton to grow.
Tidal Retreat: Anemone’s Tentacles Withdraw as Waters Recede
Our first ‘wow’ moment arrived with the discovery of a large hermit crab, snugly ensconced in the shell of a Noble Volute (Cymbiola nobilis). The sight initially sent a jolt of excitement through me, as I mistook the shell for that of the venomous cone snail, infamous for its harpoon-like shooting mechanism. Moments later, another guide brought us a live Noble Volute! It was the prettiest thing I have seen that day. This is a large carnivorous snail that used to be hunted for its beautiful shell and even its edible flesh.
The colours and patterns on the Noble Volute change daily due to the pigment cells constantly infecting its neighbouring cells
Our exploration led us to a fascinating discovery: Cake Sand Dollars (Arachnoides placenta). It was hard to believe these peculiar discs were living animals. Jerryl, our knowledgeable guide, turned this find into an engaging guessing game, challenging us to identify the top and bottom sides of these flat, clayey-looking creatures.
After a few attempts, Jerryl revealed the secret: the top side typically displays a subtle ‘flower pattern’ and is slightly convex, while the bottom side prominently showcases the pentaradial symmetry characteristic of most echinoderms (a group including sea cucumbers, sea stars, and sea urchins).
Jerryl’s sharing sparked my curiosity, leading me to further research. I learnt that the sand dollar’s unique disc-like shape is an evolutionary adaptation, optimised for efficiently consuming detritus on the ocean floor. It has tube feet on both surfaces to help breathe, navigate and feed.
Anatomy Unveiled: The middle hole is its central mouth on its underside (oral side). Guess where is its anus? It is right at the 10-11’o clock position near the edge.The top side (also known as the petaloid) with the flower petal pattern.
Written by Lucas
Midway through our guided tour, a heavy downpour forced us to seek shelter, despite the absence of lightning risk. We prioritised the well-being of the many young children in our group, not wanting them to catch a cold. Fortunately, it was merely a passing shower, and as we resumed our walk around the intertidal zone, we were greeted with a beautiful rainbow as our backdrop. This natural spectacle added an extra layer of wonder to our already fascinating excursion.
Police boat patrolling between Pulau Tekong and Changi against the colourful backdrop.
As a plant enthusiast, I found myself drawn to the seagrasses, particularly a species resembling a cross between mimosa and fern – aptly named fern seagrass (Halophila spinulosa). Unlike seaweed, these are true flowering plants that produce fruits. They form a crucial ecosystem, serving as the primary habitat and food source for dugongs. I look forward to capturing photographs of these fascinating plants’ various features during my next solo intertidal walk.
Fern seagrass with snails grazing on it.
Our exploration revealed three more fascinating creatures exhibiting pentaradial symmetry: the thorny sea cucumber (Colochirus quadrangularis), the pink warty sea cucumber (Cercodemas anceps), and the plain sand star (Astropecten indicus). Both sea cucumber species display a remarkable feeding process, extending their vibrant tentacles from one end while expelling waste from their anus at the opposite end. In stark contrast, the sand star’s muted appearance likely aids in camouflage. This intriguing difference sparked curiosity about how the more flamboyant sea cucumbers manage to conceal themselves in this dynamic environment. Hmm… By aposematism?
Thorny Sea Cucumber Often Mistaken for Its Pink Warty CousinPink Warty Sea Cucumber with its psychedelic looksIn contrast, the plain looking Plain Sea Star
Living organisms like sea pens and sea sponges serve as vibrant habitats for a diverse array of marine life. One of our guides made an exciting discovery: a Spiky Sea Pen hosting two Painted Porcelain Crabs (one of which is carrying a load of eggs), showcasing the intricate relationships within these miniature ecosystems. We also had the opportunity to examine what appeared to be a lifeless sea sponge, yet it was teeming with life, including a brittle star, snails and several tiny crabs. These encounters highlighted the complex interdependencies within marine communities and the importance of seemingly simple organisms in supporting biodiversity.
A female Painted Porcelain Crab on a Spiky Sea Pen. Unidentified tiny crabs on the sea sponge.
One of the most peculiar crustaceans I encountered, which evoked memories from the seashore life guidebook, was the Leaf Porter Crab (Family Dorippidae). This fascinating creature appears remarkably flat, including its pincers and legs. What makes it truly intriguing is its adaptive behavior: at night, it perches atop floating leaves, taking advantage of the darkness to evade predators from above. During daylight hours, it cleverly conceals itself beneath these same floating leaves, demonstrating a remarkable survival strategy in its marine habitat.
“I surrender!” – This particular image appears to depict someone cornered against a wall.
During our exploration, a participant noticed a worm-like creature in a small tidepool, prompting our guide to issue a stern warning against touching any such organisms. Although the guide didn’t identify the species, it bore a striking resemblance to a bristle worm. While this particular specimen appeared to have been decapitated, bristle worms are renowned for their remarkable regenerative abilities, often capable of regrowing body parts lost to predators – including, astonishingly, their heads!
Bristle worms are traditionally used as bait for fishing.
As we approached the canal area where our drainage system discharges, we encountered a vibrant ecosystem thriving on the walls. Algae, barnacles, and periwinkle snails adorned both sides. Jerryl, our guide, picked up some small black objects and offered to place them on our palms. Initially mistaking them for limpets, I was surprised to learn they were Onch Slugs (Family Onchidiidae), grazing on the algae. As one rested on my palm, it began leaving a trail of mucus and excrement while observing me with its distinctive elongated eyes, providing an unexpectedly intimate encounter with these fascinating intertidal creatures.
Onch slugs that breathe air unlike nudibranch (sea slugs)
As our guided walk neared its conclusion, we encountered a stunning carpet anemone, its vibrant green hue catching our eyes. Jerryl, our knowledgeable guide, encouraged us to gently touch its stinging tentacles, explaining that the subtle suction we felt was due to a small amount of toxin being released onto our skin. This fascinating experience piqued my curiosity about the various types of carpet anemones and the miniature marine life that might be dwelling among their tentacles.
Apparently, a specific type of carpet anemone may have different kinds of colours
Our excursion concluded with a spectacular sighting: a Spearer Mantis Shrimp (Family Squillidae), spotted by my friend. The creature’s striking appearance drew eager participants who were tempted to touch it. However, our vigilant guides swiftly intervened, warning against such interaction.
Spearer Mantis Shrimp as opposed to the Smasher Mantis Shrimp
The excursion concluded on a high note with a group photograph featuring MJ and her expert guides. As a delightful parting gift, MJ distributed cutesy, beautifully-illustrated stickers to all participants. These stickers depicted the various sea creatures we had encountered during our intertidal adventure, serving as both a memento and an educational tool to reinforce our newfound knowledge of the marine ecosystem.
Thank you MJ Biogal and the guides for such an enriching intertidal walk.
birdbrainsg 