I spend a part of every day wandering around our yard, testing the tomatoes for degree of ripeness, watching the birds, looking for gopher holes. On any given day we have an equal number of each - good news when you're talking about tomatoes and birds, not so much for gopher holes. I expect that within a month or so our little lawn will collapse and disappear as the gophers finally manage to excavate and carry away the last remaining bit of dirt from underneath, accompanied by a tiny subterranean cheer and rodent high-fiving (or high-however-many-digits-they-have), culminating in an exuberant tossing of miniature hard hats into the air.
As I wander I also take note of our blue bellies who continue to amaze me.
This is the season for baby lizards which we seem to have in abundance. Yesterday I was examining a gopher hole when a movement on the ground caught my eye...it was a baby lizard no bigger than a minute. The thing about these babies is they hatch with the instinct to flee firmly ingrained in their reptilian DNA but they're not quite sure yet where to or who from. I carefully put my hand down next to this baby, and without hesitation the little guy ran right up onto my outstretched palm. From there he rested on my index finger, his body no longer than the distance from my finger tip to the first joint, his tail adding another inch. He was a weightless, perfect specimen - alert, still, and very comfortable on his perch. We walked around the garden for a bit, until I gently put him back on the ground where I found him.
Just as seasons change, so do these amazing lizards as we move from Summer into Fall. No more fighting males, or mating rituals. Now I see adult lizards shedding their skin as they grow, their tattered too-tight suits hanging off their bodies while bright, brand new skin appears underneath. It's a rather untidy transition; unlike snakes who neatly slip out of their skins (lizards, after all, have four sleeves to contend with), lizards sort of burst out of theirs looking all the world like scaly Incredible Hulks with shreds of their old skin falling away in bits and pieces.
In a way, it's a living metaphor for what it's like for us humans to go through change. Rarely do we shed our old selves neatly and all of a piece, but once we get through the messy process we are renewed, larger in spirit and better than we were before.
1 comment:
That's beautiful, Denise--thank you! It is just lovely to watch the baby lizards these days, but to slow yourself down enough to really appreciate and make friends with them is such a gift. Thanks for sharing the gift with us.
I love your last paragraph, on how we humans shed messily, and transform. Beautifully written.
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