Here we see, at a summit of foliage, the diminutive yet proud jutting jaw of Satchell the Anole, as he looks into the future, or at least looks at something. High above the common terrain  Satchell surveys his kingdom--you can just barely see his upturned chin middle of the photo, slightly right, in greenish silhouette against white background.

Less anthropomorphically, he is eyeing me. I am a potential predator to his evolutionarily hard wired nervous system. The eyes do not move in their orbit--and the tilted head is a result of serial neurons firing in his perceptual system--some of those neurons designed to detect sudden movement. Real chameleons, say, from Africa, have a neuron in their perceptual system called a "fly detector" that fires a fraction of a millisecond after a small movement in the visual field, directing the tongue at the  that spot. For those interested, this  disproves the notion that visual perception is primarily environmentally developed. Perception may be hard wired, a theory associated with the Gibsons.

In any case, that is not how I prefer to regard Satchell, sitting on the pitcher plant--the botanical mascot of his insect trappery.   The pitcher plant is pod-less in recent weeks.  The pods seem to have dried up. Too much direct sun? Meanwhile, he (the "he" being speculative but at least fifty per cent probable) is noticeably larger than the last time I photographed him. Eating must be good on the pitcher plant. Satchell today looks less like a juvenile anole, with longer and thicker body, and head smaller in proportion. That big goofy lizard head on the small slim body is missed.

 I look forward to him stepping into manhood, or anole-hood, venturing forth to nearby plants as he find his purpose in life, gains strengths from his successes and wisdom from his failures, finds a mate, and even raises a brood of his own. It will be sad for me, of course, to see Satchel grow up but since its hard to tell one anole from another, I shall be surrounded, wherever I walk, with Satchel's progeny, or at least their lookalikes, and will take pride in my place in their extended family.

Meanwhile, Satchel lives a frolicsome life in the pitcher plant, undismayed by politics, by disharmony in the world, or the uncivil tone of today's political life.  Such is the kingdom of heaven.

Note: A name change may be in the offing. Several times, the name Rufus has almost typed instead of Satchel.  Satchel seems more like a Rufus than a Satchel, and Rufus is easier to say, although conversations with friends about Satchel have been, to be honest, few and far between. Rufus, incidentally, is the name of the protagonist from James Baldwin's Another Country, James