Singaporeking

S ingapore has long had a reputation as one of the world’s greenest cities. Following independence from Malaysia almost 60 years ago, efforts began to transform this island nation into a ‘garden city’. Today, as the world looks to nature as an ally in the climate crisis, it seems Singapore was way ahead of its time. Among the tightly packed high-rise apartments, office blocks and shopping malls, there are nature reserves, parks and buildings adorned with flowering trees and shrubs.

Greenery is everywhere in Singapore, bringing with it an abundance of wild creatures that have adapted to this very human landscape (see box, page 76). Many are taken for granted, yet some of these urban species demonstrate remarkably innovative and intelligent behaviour that scientists are only just beginning to understand. One such example is the oriental pied hornbill.

This large bird, one of 62 hornbill species (and the only one in Singapore), is easily recognised by its long, downcurved bill and distinctive headgear called a casque. Unlike its cousins, which require large areas of forest to survive, the oriental pied hornbill is highly adaptable, able to carve out an existence in a variety of habitats, including mangroves, coastal scrub and urban settings.

The charismatic avian has had mixed fortunes in Singapore, declining to extinction by the early 1900s as a result of habitat loss and hunting. But by 1994, it was ready to stage a comeback. A pair began breeding on one of Singapore’s smaller islands, Pulau Ubin. Until the 1970s, Ubin was home to a thriving granite industry, but its abandoned quarries have since been reclaimed by nature, and are now shrouded in secondary forest. As the vegetation returned, so did wildlife. Scientists believe the intrepid hornbill pair came from neighbouring Malaysia. It is easy to imagine these large birds flying across the narrow channel between the two countries, less than a mile apart.

Hornbills nest in cavities made in large trees by other birds, such as woodpeckers. After entering her new abode, the female seals the cavity with a mixture of saliva and mud, leaving a small opening through which she can receive food supplied by the male. It was this rather particular housing requirement that contributed to the species’ disappearance from Singapore from the late 19th century, as nesting trees were rapidly lost to pepper and gambier plantations. “Orient