Daily Meanderings

A tropical storm  passed Panama City by. There is a humid feel in the air nonetheless. Last night driving, the sky's lighting was off hue, as if certain frequencies were missing from the spectrum, and the wet roads were empty.  A still oddness was evident—with a sense of instability, as if electrically charged. I assume it was the atmosphere and not a neurological problem on my part.

My pitcher plant, a fly eating monocat, is the home for a juvenile chameleon, or rather, since chameleon is a misnomer--the real chameleon being indigenous to Africa--home for a juvenile Anolis Carolinensis. I think this is the correct species for this lizard, which is about the size of a pinkie joint,.

In high school, I raised Anolis Crassulus, a related species, with varying luck. I had brought them back from Guatemala The eggs hatched but appropriately small food was difficult and meal worms too large, crusty and ulcer forming. Attempts to keep a fruit fly colony in the science classroom drew ire from faculty and students. No one understood how difficult it was to get anoles to lay eggs in captivity. Instead they complained. My interest did get me an invite from a college museum, where I remember, through a fog of time, handling a jar of true chameleons from Africa. I wondered how long that bottle of chameleons had been sitting on that shelf, or what famed donor had provided it to the museum.

Today, the anole enjoys the insects drawn by a plant's aroma. A bottle of fermented grape juice sits nearby.  The plant is thriving and putting out many new pitchers, enticing insects to their final drink.

When I approach, the anole darts into the middle of the pitcher plant. It freezes, head slanted to the side. Evolution has not given you movable eyes. Some rhythmic heavings on the chest suggest a dewlap may soon arise.

The anole hasn't been named yet. Not sure of its gender, I assume a gender neutral name will be best. Its eye continues to fix me, its long beak forward like a baseball cap.

Speaking of baseball,  it seems sad to have fallen in popularity to rougher, more aggressive sports. Baseball has a genteel quality, and additionally the likelihood of concussion is small. The skull has a nice way of neutralizing frontal  blows, like a horsehide between the eyes. It is the skewing's to the side, more common in other sports, that create the major brain injuries.