10 Sep Singapore: A City of Gardens
Bromeliad-laden trees arched across the highway as my cab ferried me from Singapore’s international airport. A lusciously shade-dappled park with intermittent benches and exercise equipment ran along one side. Median plantings, neighboring walls, and even some of the buildings themselves were meticulously landscaped with botanical garden flare. Even entering Singapore’s urban center, it was clear that this city nation remained devoted to the garden city concept hatched with their sovereignty in the 1960’s when Singapore’s leaders sought a way to maintain resource independence. Most of its natural resources had already been depleted – their primary forests were whittled to near nothing and fresh water supplies were mostly polluted, but these leaders envisioned a regreening effort that has evolved from Singapore being called Garden City, to being called a city within a garden. As a devotee of urban regreening, it was an effort I wanted to see firsthand, particularly the city’s two world-famous gardens – Gardens by the Bay and the Singapore Botanic Gardens.
I’d learned about Singapore’s Gardens by the Bay at a talk on sustainability and couldn’t wait to see the futuristic Supertrees at the heart of the Garden’s sustainability efforts. Towers covered in ferns and bromeliads during the day that transform into neon icons at night, they also serve as a combination solar field and venting system for the Garden’s cooled plant conservatories. Despite a steady rain, I headed first to Gardens by the Bay knowing I could explore its domed conservatories in dryness. I expected an educational experience, or at least a chance to commune with tranquil plantings, but I began to have my doubts as I stepped into the Flower Dome, a giant glass biome exploding at the moment with delicate pink cherry blossoms as part of a Japanese Sakura festival.
Selfie-stick toting masses posed below Japanese archways, angling their phones for the perfect all-pink background. Oversized Pokémon characters lolled across fields of flowers, inspiring more selfie-stick poses. A toy choo choo train rambled through a moss-laden, artificial-rabbit-studded maze. Cosmos and geraniums spilled across Australian, South American, African, and Mediterranean planting beds, blatantly disregarding their posted geographic designations, a fact seemingly unnoticed by the photo snapping crowds. Perhaps the neighboring Cloud Forest Dome would be more my speed. Once again, I faced doubts as I entered to the ominous growls of an animatronic dinosaur flicking its tail.
Avatar proved to be the theme here. Leaves artificially quaked, music blared, creatures screeched, and oversized blue characters overshadowed the delicate plants and masterful arrangements that to me deserved center stage. Complex arrays of carnivorous plants, miniature orchids, and species of begonias I’d never even heard of went unnoticed by the average visitor. How could such minutia possibly compete with an interactive disco room where families soared across the screen alongside dinosaurs? I left feeling empty and disappointed, not certain what was bothering me until the following day when I visited the island’s historic, World Heritage-listed botanic garden.
At the Singapore Botanic Gardens, waterfalls trickled below fan palms. A healing garden featured medicinal plants. Hundreds of varieties of artistically arranged orchids claimed center stage in the National Orchid Garden. Monitor lizards foraged through leaf litter along the rain forest trail. Sunbirds flitted between waxy red blossoms in the ginger garden. A couple picnicked on a blanket overlooking a lake where wading birds fished along the shore. Lunchtime diners tinked glasses in an open-air café as an Oriental Pied-Hornbill settled into the entryway trees. This was a garden I understood; one devoted to plants, education, providing habitat for wildlife, and reconnecting people with nature. I began to wonder if I’d fairly judged the Gardens by the Bay on my rainy-day visit.
I returned to the bay-side garden on a sunny afternoon, heading not to the visitor-packed domes but to the surrounding acres. The trails here were largely devoid of people, but heritage gardens featured native plants alongside tales of culture and history. Desert cacti and succulents lined a covered walkway. A Japanese-inspired zen garden offered quiet contrast to the city’s bustle. And here too wading birds fished alongside naturalistic lakes. Here too were plants, animals, and an opportunity for people to connect with nature and yet it wasn’t until the sun began to set that crowds arrived. Benches filled, steps and wide planters became seats, and by the time the nightly melodies and shifting lights burst from the Supertrees, the area below was standing room only. I found myself mesmerized, not so much by the musical lightshow as by the dichotomy between this island’s two famed gardens. Both were life-sustaining in their own way, yet this one clearly thrived on theme-park style entertainment. These masses hadn’t gathered to watch the nighttime sky, just like they hadn’t visited the domes to see the plants. They were here to be entertained. But perhaps that’s the brilliance of Singapore – an alluringly fun and modern city grounded in environmentalist ethics, a contrast seemingly captured within its two famed gardens.
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