And so we went outside, the dog and I. We went outside, he thinking we were going for a walk, I to sit on the bench. The sun had just disappeared behind the trees in the west, and the temperature was down to a cool 99 degrees.
We were sitting there, the dog on my lap, me on the bench, and I spied a Texas Spiny Lizard on the Ash Tree.
Now we’ve had snakes, and we’ve had toads, and we have birds in the morning who flock to the water we set outside. And we have habitats here and there: stacked dead wood and stabby looking sticks that make houses for little somethings that rustle in the underbrush. I like to think the toads live there. And I like to thing there are other things, too, but I’ve never seen lizards here before this day.
So a smile came to my face as I saw that lizard blending so fine with the bark of the tree. Because it meant that the stabby looking sticks and the stacked dead wood are working. A habitat is growing here, even in this dreadful furnace of summer.
And now the lizard saw me. I must have moved, or maybe it was Guinness, but the lizard caught some motion and cocked his head so that his left eye was beaming our way. It opened its mouth and closed it again. It moved a smidgen up the trunk. And we sat still.
After a while, it turned its head back.
And now, a stinkbug flew by about five feet from the Ash tree trunk. It followed a trajectory straight down from the canopy to the dry leaves and crunchy grass on the ground. And the lizard cocked its head in that direction and dashed to the other side of the tree, clinging to the rough gray bark, moving not at all, gazing in the direction of where the stinkbug touched down.
So I’m thinking Circle of Life, and the lizard leapt.
It jumped to the ground and started to dash across the open space when Guinness got restless and jumped off my lap. And at this moment, the lizard noticed us again and froze where he stood in the middle of that open space, halfway to the stinkbug, halfway from the tree.
Then Guinness wagged his tail and looked up at me with hopeful eyes. The lizard scurried back to the tree, climbing up the trunk, watching us again from the very spot where I first saw him.
And the stink bug flies off onto a different path unwinding from the one that lay before it just a few moments ago.