The Land of Tiny Lizards

Life is full of little compulsions. The friend who buys a lottery ticket every week, despite the odds. The roommate who has to have the dishwasher loaded just so. The dog that can’t help chasing every squirrel in sight. The moth to the proverbial flame.

I can’t help chasing lizards.

When I see a skink or an eastern fence lizard lounging on a tree trunk, I am instantly drawn to get as close as I possibly can without it spooking. I’ll chase it in circles, around and around like a dog after its own tail. And when I go visiting folks in Florida–oh, boy. Continue reading


Little Deers

Even as I finished setting up this blog, I found myself in the path of a great nature moment. I was sitting on the front porch, typing and formatting away as dusk settled in around me, when a motion dead-ahead of me caught my eye. There was a doe white-tailed deer crossing the lawn with careful, tentative steps. I was pleased, but not surprised; I’d encountered deer in the evening a few times before.


As she ventured further forward, though, a fawn crept into view from behind a tree. It was delicate, splotched with white dots and probably no higher than my knee. I’d only ever seen fawns in the wild once before, and they had been nearly full-grown. This beautiful, improbable little thing seemed almost as though it could curl itself up in a pillowcase.

I couldn’t help myself–I reached for the phone. It was a silly decision, since I knew the camera zoom wouldn’t be enough to get a remotely decent picture, but I did it all the same. The wicker seat creaked when I shifted, loud enough that both bodies froze and both heads swung my way. After assessing me for a moment, they continued on with a new touch of hurry. Suddenly, a second fawn came lurching out of the woods and after its family. Twins! I watched them finish the crossing together, headed off to some quieter place.

It felt like a special gift to share a moment with such a delightful family. It was especially nice that going for the camera didn’t ruin things. Some moments are better savored than captured. Maybe those three will cross my path again some other evening. If not, though, this is a memory I will be perfectly content with.

Gratefully yours,