Picnicking with the Carolina Anole

Before Darby spotted him and sent this Carolina Anole skittering off in search of higher ground, I was able to photograph this fellow who spent a good deal of the summer tucked away in the umbrella attached to our patio furniture, where he seemed to be well-fed and well-contented.

Carolina Anole on a Picnic Table in Fultondale, Alabama

Lizards on the Run, or the Tale the Golden Monster

Among the communities of the Blue Tailed Skinks and Carolina Anoles, the legend of the Golden Monster continues to grow. She terrorizes stray lizards, not discriminating between young of old. Any who are so careless as to be found out in the open are subjected to her slow, torturous but playful manner of slaying them. When she trees one under a shrub, she begins to stamp her great, golden paw paw, attempting to drive out the victim through tremors and fear. Upon being captured, the reptile is paraded around the yard, loosely but securely held in her clenched jaws; often the monster executes more than one victory lap in search of the first location at which the playful terrorizing will begin. 

Upon finding that spot, she lays down and lets the victim loose; as he tries to burrow or scurry away, she paws at him, reigning him in. Perhaps she even lets him stray far enough to hope of escape, only to pounce, and cart him to another part of the yard. She will then let him go again, only to roll on her back and nip at him while upside down or roll over him, smothering him in golden fur. But eventually, their tailless bodies are broken between teeth or beneath a paw. Either their will or ability to live, or both, is extinguished. Occasionally, one will be so bold as to defend himself, biting back, attaching himself to the monster's sensitive lips, but even that only serves to hasten his all-too-certain death.

A few have been rescued and survived. But for the others, all that remains is scales and skeletons, the rest having been claimed by ants. For the most part, the skinks and anoles have begun to make themselves scarce. They are not safe on the ground or under shrubbery, but only high up on walls and fences. And even when they're out, they're skittish, scurrying with abandon from anything that is large and moves, particularly Darby, my golden retriever.

Blue Tailed Skink on the Run :: Fultondale, Alabama

Introducing the Carolina Anole

The other day, I was walking through the living room and glanced out the window at the shrub/tree/thing that resides there. I noticed in the uppermost leaves there was a lizard hanging out. I have seen dozens of these lizards around the house; one even lived in my office a few weeks, until I realized that Anna would murder me if she saw him roaming about and discerned that I had known of his presence, at which point I ushered him outside (but not without pangs of guilt; it was cold out). 

Nevertheless, I never knew what sorts of lizards these were until some helpful cohorts at Photo.net helped me ID them: the Carolina Anole (or Green Anole). They eat moths and roaches and other insects. And when the males cause the orange part of their throat to stick out (that part is called the 'dewlap'), they're either trying to appear threatening or attract females.

Canon Rebel T2i, Tamron LD Di 70-300mm @ 300mm, 1/30s @ f/8, ISO 800