Anoles on Fencebook

Got home from work to find a lizard flash mob on my patio fence. Anoles of various sizes, dressed in either green or brown, were everywhere, but not close enough for slow-dancing. What was the occasion? I didn't get an e-vite.



Suddenly there was a leap from a bush onto the brussels sprout plant. Oh my! I see that caterpillars are in a feeding frenzy on the plant. Big green "worms" are on every leaf and stem, chomping away. And now this slim green anole, my hero, leaps into the fray and frass. It grabs the biggest caterpillar in a choke hold and shakes it like a Boston terrier with a slobbery sock. Grrrrrr! Grrrrr!


See the brown lizard in the background?

Not since I saw a roadrunner try to eat a snake on the run in Alamogordo have I seen such a crosswise attempt at lunching. Oh, wait, there was that time the preschool girl ate her banana like corn on the cob. It's not easy to choke down a cabbage worm without a Budweiser! The lizard had to leap back to the bush and rest for quite awhile. Then it took up a spot on the fence to stare down the other anoles who might like a trip to the buffet table.

Two of the lizards on the fence have lost and regrown part of their tails. They've been on the other side of the buffet for some bird, I guess.

Life is a jungle, but I don't know why my hero won't share the spoils. The brussels sprout plant is covered with green caterpillars. The anoles and I have already acknowledged that he is The Man. It's time to talk about accumulating political capital, building war chests, and reaching across the aisle. Put the tiniest lizards to work sending text messages. Build goodwill by inviting all to the brussels sprout plant to feast on the bounty instead of hording it.



© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder