Yesterday, I was standing on the edge of my favorite resort’s swimming pool, which also happens to be my favorite writing spot, when a rather large black and yellow lizard …
(I interrupt this writing season for a special report. As I am writing this post, that same exact lizard, I kid you not, starting coming right after me. I had to shoo it away with my shirt. It stuck its tongue out at me and scooted under a cabana. Here’s a photo. In a creepy ironic twist, it somehow knew I was writing about it. Now back to the actual post.)
… when a rather large black and yellow lizard jumped out of the flowers and into the edge of the pool. A resort security guard was standing beside me and I pointed out the creature to him. He smiled. We watched as the lizard swam across the chlorine blue and came to the little sun-bathing island in the middle of the pool. The Island is below.
The lizard climbed the stone side and rested in the sun on the fake wood patio. I said to the guard, “It’s going to frighten someone.” He just smiled and kept looking at the beast. I kept thinking that something should probably be done, but the guard kept admiring it, like it was supposed to be there, like it was a piece of art to be cherished. I kept thinking about the foreign ladies who would scream their lungs out if they came across it in the water. .
But after a while, it got me thinking that so many westerners expect their vacations to be lizard-free without creepy crawly nature. They like to hike in expensive boots, camp in expensive tents, vacation in luxury – even when surrounded by poverty. We have, and I certainly include myself, sanitized life in so many ways that we have lost touch with nature and the natural processes. As I thought about the lizard some more, I knew that I wanted to admire that lizard as much as the guard did. It really is quite beautiful. Colorful dots of yellow, gracious in movement, quick in step, wanting only to enjoy the pool like anyone else. So lizard, I welcome you back to the pool. I’ll try to defend you against unwieldy westerners who wish you to be banished. I’ll admire you from a distance, though I would appreciate it if you didn’t sneak up on me anymore.