Near my home, there used to be a stretch of thick green trees and dark undergrowth lining up one side of a two-way road. It was probably not more than 100 meters long. Sometimes I take my early morning walk this way, and I always make it a point to slow down at this stretch to enjoy the invigorating cool oxygenated air emanating from it. It is remarkable that even in a small plot of land, nature is adept at giving life to the space around it. Alas, this stretch was boarded up for some construction work some time ago. I am not optimistic that when the boards come down, I can still bathe in the heavenly mist of cool oxygen*.

My love affair with parks

However, I should not complain much. Singapore does a very decent job of creating green spaces that we all take for granted. Good or bad, there is hardly any wild green space that is not “curated” in this “City in a Garden”. But I do appreciate the many wonderful parks and gardens that dot the north, south, east, and west of our small island.  I think I have been to almost all the parks in Singapore. My love affair with parks started about 7 years ago when I was still working. Then, I hit upon the idea of taking a short morning walk in a different park each day before starting work. Better a stroll in the park than getting stuck for hours in early morning traffic.

The only catch is that I have to leave my home in the eastern part of Singapore way before 6 am. My workplace was at the far end of the West. Usually, I would reach a park slightly before 6 am. By then, there is already a smattering of early risers strolling leisurely or pounding the tracks. Around 6:30 am, the parks would suddenly come alive with the chirping and singing of birds, rising to a chorus as the sky lights up gradually. To witness the rise of a new day amidst nature soaked in clean fresh air accompanied by birdsongs every day must do something good to body and mind.

To compensate for the lack of sunlight on these early morning walks, I would visit these parks with my wife on weekends at more godly hours when the full splendour of nature reveals itself. Whether it is watching the sun cast a glittering glow on the infinite shades of green leaves or feeling the gentle wind that sways the leafy branches to and fro, my mind naturally becomes in synch with nature. I am convinced that the last few years of daily walks in parks and regular contact with nature (even though it is the manicured kind) had heightened my sense of well-being.

According to National Parks Board, there are about 400 parks and 4 nature reserves in tiny 728 square kilometers Singapore! Thus, we can enjoy a particular park each day without repeating the visit within the year! No doubt many of these are small neighbourhood parks where you have to circle a few times to reach your recommended 40 minutes of daily walking exercise. Nevertheless, the larger parks are varied enough to repeat hop from one to another if I get bored with taking the same walking route daily.

Parks in Singapore

When I want to take an extended walk but cannot decide where to go, I will most likely end up at the Botanic Gardens, the granddaddy of all parks. There are many walking routes to enjoy the multitude of flora, many of them housed in themed habitats. It is difficult to have a disciplined walk as I often get distracted by a stunning flower here or an unusual plant there. The limited vocabulary I have of plants and flowers I learned here in the Botanic Gardens. It is also a good place for people-watching as the visitors here are as diverse as the flora!

Other far-flung parks (from my home) are enticing in their own way. At MacRitchie Reservoir Park, following the narrow boardwalk skirting around the edge of vast sheets of glassy water is meditative. At the Southern Ridges, several connected parks on high ground offer panoramic views of the sea, lush greenery, canopy walks and old colonial bungalows you wish to live in. If I want to avoid people, Sungei Buloh Wetland Reserves, especially under the early light of the morning, provides a near-solitary walk on earthen trails amongst mangrove swamps while watching birds feeding on mudflats and basking reptiles challenging my right of way.

There are so many parks to wax lyrical about, but the one that I am most fond of is in my neighbourhood—Pasir Ris Park. I have been taking my morning walks here regularly for the past few years. At first, it seemed like a rather non-descript park even though it is quite sizeable (70 hectares). It is not blessed with an abundance of flowers and there are no hill-top views or canopy walks to look down from, just straight paths straddling the coastline and winding around the wide expanse of trees and greenery.

Pasir Ris Park

There is a joyful sense of space as you walk around the park, not only because of the sea view but also the large tracts of flat ground accentuated by well-spaced giant rain trees. The high canopy of the rain trees provides scattered shade as well as mesmerizing views of lattices formed by the network of branches. The paths are mostly tarred, but if you want a bit of wildness, the boardwalk in the mangrove swamp will satisfy you. You will also be rewarded with lazy rustic views of the river which makes you wonder if you are in concrete-jungle Singapore. But you must not look towards the direction of the HDB flats in the distance if you don’t want to shatter that illusion!

The coastline here also offers splendid views of sunrise though you would need the happy conjunction of timing, fine weather, and appropriate cloud pattern to witness the golden brilliance of the sun’s work in the gradual lighting up of earth from one shade of incandescence to another. This is also the best time to walk in the park. Here and there you see cones of light penetrating the foliage, large swathes of grassland bathe in different shades of golden green, sparkling high branches and long shadows of tall rain trees. Also, not forgetting the warmth and vitamin-D awakening goodness of the sunlight on your bare skin.

A park is not just a collection of flora and fauna, trees, lawns, walking paths, benches, and lakes dispensing fresh air and offering pleasing views. What makes a park comes alive are people coming in and going out, unhurried, leisurely, and relaxed. If you are like me, a regular at Pasir Ris Park, you will feel a sense of attachment from the regularity and rhythm of the community of visitors here.  As Inayat Khan, the Sufi teacher said, “Some people look for a beautiful place. Others make a place beautiful”.

People makes the Park

The longer I walk here, the more the sense of character of the park reveals itself. There are no dramatic scenes, heart-stopping incidents or inspiring moments, just ordinary people mingling with each other or doing their own thing—like the gleeful lady on a cambering trike**, heaving left and right, whooshing past walkers and joggers, with music blaring in her trail. If the Park is a painting, you will see a squashy bold line cutting across the canvas with tumbling music notes.

Very often, I see a man who seems to know everyone in the park. I joked with my wife that he is the Mayor of Pasir Ris Park. He greets everyone who walks past him (including me) as though they are old friends. Very often, he will wave to people a distance away and they will wave or shout back in recognition. Most of the time, you will see a group walking together with him, like an entourage of minders in a constituency walkabout. People like him are important in turning strangers into a community.

The Park, like many others, is littered with exercise groups. Some of them I see regularly, like the large group whose members (about 40) come fully equipped with exercise mats. They arrive quite early, before 7 am, except on rainy days.  Their source of weather reports must be better than mine since they seem to be able to anticipate forthcoming rain, unlike my unreliable app. Whenever I don’t see them, I know it is going to rain soon!

Another group, led by 2 ladies in similar T-shirt attire is a fixture on the steps of the Pavilion. They have been there since day one of my visit to the park as far as I can remember. Their group waxed and waned over time, but the 2 ladies are always there, pandemic or no pandemic. They practise an extended form of qigong, guided by traditional Chinese music spewing from a portable speaker. Most of the time my wife and I do our own “Eight Brocade” qigong (which I learned from Youtube) a distance behind. Before the Pandemic, there was another large qigong group here as well. The Pavilion must be infused with qi with all our exertions.

Some exercise groups seem to form spontaneously. I witnessed one not far away from the Pavilion. It first started with a mature couple dancing to some lively music from their mobile phone attached to a speaker. Soon, a few people joined in and then one day it became a large group with their own matching T-shirts and a bigger speaker. They exercise to some loud dance music and often draw in onlookers. They are also many smaller groups that come and go – sword dancing, tai-chi, stretch bands, aerobics, yoga, tree circling, etc., all adding colour and energy to the park.

Seeing other people walking and enjoying nature like us is far superior to working alone on our treadmill at home. It gives us a sense of participation and engagement in a community outside our own preoccupations. The walks may jog our minds to spill out new ideas, inspirations, and valuable insights in all aspects of our lives. Joan Miro, the Spanish abstract artist is said to go to the beach every day to pick up bits and pieces to kick start his day. You can also pick pebbles or shells on the beach too but catching snippets of conversation as you walk past strollers will work as well.

An endearing park

Pasir Ris Park has a kind of quiet understated beauty that you appreciate when you become more familiar with it. There are other parks where you can see glorious sunrises, spot muddy creatures in mangrove swamps, explore the beach in low tide, walk under the canopy of giant trees and imagine being in another country while gazing at the grassy riverbanks. But it is only when you walk here daily or regularly would it becomes a part of your mental landscape of familiar things to escape to for respite and peace of mind. We all need familiar things to anchor our well-being and draw comfort—home, family, friends, community and places.

Over the years of enjoying the park, I had snapped many pictures with my mobile phone. Instead of leaving them to languish on my computer, I decided to assemble them in a video. They are not of professional quality, but good enough to bring back memories of a few years of walking in an endearing park for me. Since I also started to muck around with music composing last year, the video is accompanied by a piece I wrote called “Morning Walks at Pasir Ris Park”. I composed the music using the free software Musescore, scoring it for a string orchestra. See below:

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NOTES:

* The boards have been taken down since I wrote this. Apparently, it is a road widening project. The new extension now cuts deep into the greenery, thinning it out, possibly curtailing its oxygen-producing goodness.

** An adult scooter where you shift your weight from left to right to propel it forward