Well, I wanted to do a rant about our sagging 'good neighbor' relation with the oil field but Mark grabbed me by the collar and held my 90 MPH paddling arms and legs in place once again. I may do it yet but now that I am wound up, I need to write about something - writing is definitely my vent therapy when I run into closed doors, cold solid walls and buttocks people.
As always, I found my solace in nature's blunt and honest agendas. So ... the photos show yesterday's tiny visitor. I happened to notice Brou in hunting mode by the back wall of the barn and went to investigate and to intervene if necessary. I am glad I did. Brou was about to administer the now infamous 'flying coyote pounce' to this little guy. These tiny lizards are so delicate that it doesn't take but one pounce to mortally wound them.
I was able to grab the little guy and exit without Brou seeing this happen so he was content to keep pawing and snorting around where he last saw the lizard. I walked back to the Rat to find the camera. What I soon found out was that it was nearly impossible to set-up the camera and take a photo with only one hand. The other hand had a gentle hold on my rescued friend and I had to be careful to not lose focus on him lest I hold him too tightly. I just had to show you the nearly iridescent blue, white and black markings on his belly. Mark also regrets that the photo does not do justice to the brilliance of these colorings that I showed him as he tended the burn barrel. These striking colors were obviously not meant to impress and attract the attention of predators from above since he was a uniform drab mottled gray on the sky side. He also had the finest little pin-point claws which could propel him directly up or across the weathered barn siding without pause.
We sat on the porch for some time and visited before I walked him back over towards the barn. Rather than put him back into the Brou zone again, I placed him on my shoulder and walked over to a boulder taller than myself and which sits 15 feet from the back of the barn. I leaned back against the boulder and about five minutes later he finally chose to scale up the boulder and roost in a sunny niche above my head. He was simply a beautiful, gentle creature and I was ever so glad to be able to rescue him. I could get in a little snark about some humanity here but I will refrain for now.
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