Leaping Lizards!

“Ugh! Another lizard entered the house.” I pulled our sliding glass door shut, but it was too late. Herb and I live on the first floor of our apartment building, and every time we open the patio door, we invite the natural world inside.

Welcome to Florida, the epicenter of nonnative reptiles. I recognized our new guest as a brown anole. According to the University of Florida, this type of lizard hitched a ride on a shipment of cargo originating from Cuba during the late 1800’s.

Due to Florida’s warm and moist climate, the invasion of the brown anoles has expanded to every county of the peninsula. They are most common in areas dominated by humans. The little lizards can be found in school yards, gas stations, grocery stores and suburban neighborhood yards. People frequently see them on the ground and perched on tree trunks, fences, and the walls of buildings.

Our little invader jumped into Buddy’s dog bed which gave me an opportunity for a photo.

Isn’t he cute? I think I’ll name him Fred. My usual way of dealing with a lizard is to pick it up in a light-weight towel and release the animal outside. Unfortunately Fred was so fearful, the second I dropped the towel over him, he escaped. After ten minutes of chasing him around our apartment, I gave up.

The next morning, I spotted Fred on the floor between our sofa and end table.

I felt like he was taunting me, bobbing his head and doing little push ups with his upper body. Herb is usually able to grasp these guys with his bare hands. Fred was different. He was the fastest lizard we’d ever seen. A regular Houdini, who flattened his little body enough to slide under the couch.

When Herb and I inched the sofa away from the wall, Fred raced to the other side of the room. The chase began anew whenever we glimpsed him outside of his sofa hideout. Once we opened the patio door and tried to shoo him outside. He would have none of it. What can you do with animal who apparently has a death wish?

I read that anoles can live for a month without food but they can only live three days without water. Why was Fred still alive one week after entering our home? We could only imagine he was sneaking into the shower to lap up whatever moisture might be available.

After ten days Fred disappeared. He no longer came out from under the sofa to greet us. Someday we’ll find his dried up remains under a piece of furniture. What really killed Fred? Curiosity? Fear? Stupidity?

Not to worry. Brown anoles breed during the summer and a female lays one egg every one to two weeks. The eggs hatch about one month later. There will be plenty of Fred Juniors to carry on their invasion.

Are You a Dog Mom?

Someone finally came up with a national day I can celebrate. This Saturday, May 11 is National Dog Mom’s Day. Casey and Leigh Isaacson registered the second Saturday in May to celebrate and thank all the dog moms who work hard to love and support their pets. Casey and Leigh also founded Dig, the dog person’s dating app, as a way for dog lovers to find a compatible date.

Did you know people who love dogs have specific personality traits? For that reason, dog people would have more in common with other dog people. Deciding whether or not to date someone based upon their pet, seems like an idea which has some merit.

So what type of person loves dogs? According to a 2010 study performed by the American Psychological Association dog lovers are extroverted, positive, and agreeable. On the other hand, cat lovers tend to be more introverted, curious, and creative. And snake lovers? Well, they are extremely independent.

Think about it. People usually adopt a dog because they are attracted to the breed and believe the animal would make a good addition to their family. Dog lovers like to exercise, so they enjoy taking their dog for frequent walks. Dog lovers also like to chat with other dog lovers who are out and about. Since most dogs are pack animals, they don’t mind stopping to make friends with another dog.

A few days ago we took our dog, Buddy, to a Beagle Meet Up in a local dog park. We kept Buddy on his leash due to his age and mobility issues. Even though he couldn’t romp with the younger dogs, that didn’t stop him from interacting with them.

Buddy howled and the friendly beagles gathered around to welcome him. After the initial meet and greet butt sniffing behavior was complete, the dogs accepted him into their pack. I’m sure they recognized he was a senior because they treated him with respect. The experience was quite positive. At the Beagle Meet Up dogs and owners enjoy socializing with one another. ( By the way, people who own beagles are emotionally stable.) The Orlando Beagles meet at Lake Druid Park on the first and third Saturday of the month at 9 a.m.

Arroo, to all of you dog moms! You are disciplined, have a strong sense of duty, and are good planners. You are energetic and have a great sense of humor. Keep it up, dog moms. Fido appreciates everything you do.

Does your pet reflect your personality? Leave a comment, I’d love to hear from you.

The Serious Cereus

Buzzards glide in the cloudless sky

Rock squirrels hurry on the ground

Shadowed by the prickly pear,

The Cereus makes no sound.

This lazy cactus leans upon

Support from kindly neighbors

Waiting for the perfect time

To begin its covert labors.

Once a year the sunset beckons—

And Cereus buds unfold

Their delicate white petals

With centers of soft gold.

A fragrance like vanilla

Spills forth from every core

Luring a local sphinx moth

To pollinate…before…

The first light of the morning

Forever shuts each flower

Without complaint or question,

They meet their final hour.

The secret of the Cereus

Revealed one moonlit night

Fulfill the Maker’s purpose

Inside the span of life.

Buzzards glide in the cloudless sky

Rock squirrels hurry on the ground

Life resumes in the desert heat

But the Cereus makes no sound.

Dear Reader,

“The Serious Cereus” is a revision of a poem which first appeared on my blog entitled “The Secret of the Cereus” in 2016. Check it out. I include much more information about this interesting cactus.

Quiet Time

Here I am Lord

ready to begin my day.

I confess you were not first in my routine,

never are.

First, the daily weigh-in,

before I consumed a bowl of cheerios with blueberries.

Then facebook

beckoned my attention.

I gave my friends the “likes” they deserved

before settling in my easy chair with my second cup of coffee.

After scanning a few Bible verses

and writing my requests in my “prayer journal,”

I thought I’d fulfilled my duty

and meandered outdoors for a walk.

Here at the pond

suddenly I see

in order to hear from you, I must listen.

Here I am Lord,

ready to begin our day.

I’m an Old Dog

Here I lie, in the bed I’ve made

Sunken from many naps

I chase squirrels in my dreams

And remember romps through the park with my master.

I’ve slowed down

My face, now gray with age,

My eyes are dim, and my hearing slight

But my heart is tuned to my family,

Who have met my needs these many years.

Our story began years ago

When my humans appeared at the beagle rescue…

We connected.

I think they were looking for someone like me.

Together we visit outdoor markets

Where delightful smells fill the air

And strangers love to rub my ears

Somehow everyone knows my name…

Buddy the Beagle on Blueberry Street.

Message from a Brook

Come closer, daughter

My bank has the perfect boulder waiting for you

You will find rest

When you let my endless burble speak to your busy mind

Breathe…

Lay your worries down

Give them to me

I will carry them to the depths of the sea.

I bring life to all I touch

From the towering silver maple to the tiny striped minnow

All are nourished by my abilities.

See the lush thicket?

Each fern knows me well

Rooted in my abundance,

Their lacy fronds

beam with contentment.

I am a channel of resources

An open frequency

Yet you seldom tune me in.

Come near, daughter, and sit awhile.

Dear Reader,

Hopefully my latest poem will inspire you to get outside and allow the natural world to speak to you. I want to do just that! Look for another post next week which celebrates National Poetry Month.

Exercise in OO

Sue jumped out of bed, she knew what to do.

She pulled on her jeans and shouted, “yahoo!”

“I’ve got the day off, so I’ll visit to the zoo.”

The gates had just opened, the visitors few.

“Hello,” Sue smiled to the grounds-keeping crew.

“You do a great job, this place looks brand new.”

Inside the birdhouse Sue’s interest grew.

High overhead her feathered friends flew.

A rainbow of colors, some red, and some blue.

Then a strange voice rose above every coo.

“Hello pretty lady, how do you do?”

Parting the foliage for a better view.

Perched on a limb sat a fat cock-a-too.

Dear Reader,

I had fun writing this poem. After finishing “Exercise in OO” I realized there are countless possibilities poets have at their disposal. Poetry can be serious or fun. I tapped into the idea from a resource: “5-Minute Daily Writing Prompts” by Tarn Wilson. Begin by listing all the words you can think of which contain the same vowel sound. (This is very easy if you have a rhyming dictionary.) Then you start putting the words into lines to create a poem.

By the way, April is National Poetry month. Look for another poem from me next week.

It’s All About Location

I’ve wanted to write a post for weeks but felt stuck. Is it because I have no ideas or too many ideas? The woes of a writer. There’s nothing worse than writer’s block. I feel lost when I don’t write… ideas come, but seem pointless.

Today I moved my laptop from the dining room table back to my studio, hoping to separate myself from distractions, and immersing myself in a place where I wrote so many posts before.

My writing space is decorated with nature scenes. Scenes that draw me to the beauty of creation. I’ve been stuck inside for along time. The daily walks which stimulated my creativity stopped. Wonder why?

In October of 2023 I experienced three stress fractures in the metatarsals of my left foot. The treatment plan involved wearing a surgical boot for eight weeks, and limiting my steps as much as possible. (400 steps a day) Elevation is important to the healing process. For those eight weeks I propped up my foot on pillows to keep the injury above my heart. (Twenty minutes every hour during the day.) I learned it takes a long time for tiny bones to heal, especially if you have osteoporosis.

By Ground Hog Day I began transitioning out of the boot and into my sneaker. A process of slowly increasing my steps which took another eight weeks. Now I can walk well enough to do a few chores around the house. I’ve learned to appreciate the ability to move from one room to another in my apartment!

So I’ve been stuck. Maybe writing this will get me unstuck. Maybe I just need to move on now. I’ve never been one to feel sorry for myself. I subscribe to the philosophy of everything happens for a reason. When it comes to illness we humans just need to get over ourselves and accept our limitations. Let’s face it, we are not in control. So, what did I do during he last five months?

Fortunately I’m retired, so hobbling around a place of business was not necessary. I prayed and read scripture to encourage myself. I read several books, and watched a movie almost every night. I made a lot of purchases on Amazon. I learned doing yoga in a chair is possible.

In January I prioritized my goals for the new year. (Isn’t it interesting, my first priority was health and my last priority was writing.) I listened to music and wrote bad poetry. Didn’t Emily Dickinson rarely come of her house?

Suffering is always bittersweet. My husband has been a saint through all of this. If he ever experiences a long term illness, I hope I can be as selfless and as patient. Trials can bring couples closer to one another.

Now that I have said all this, I feel better. Writing is so good for the soul. I’m ready to move out of my chair and feel the warmth of the sun on my face.

“If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant.” —Anne Bradstreet

Have a blessed Easter!

To Everything There is a Season

Lately my mind takes road trips to the seasons of my youth. Sometimes I long for my “good old days ” filled with endless possibility. A time when many of life’s big decisions had not been made.

When I was seventeen, I hung out with other like-minded souls who thought it was up to us to change the world. I wanted to join the Peace Corps and make a difference.

Of course I listened to the popular songs of the time. I fell in love with the sounds of The Beatles, The Who, and Buffalo Springfield among others. Rock music energized me and fueled my day. Now, when I hear the music of my youth, I’m drawn into a world of nostalgia.

I remember late-night gatherings with friends which usually included music. We would sit around a “record player” and play the latest release of our favorite artists. The lyrics often appeared somewhere on the album cover. We passed the lyrics around and sang along to the tunes. Like many “boomers,” I reflect fondly upon those times.

But were the “good old days” really that good? In comparison, what makes me think the present is bad? There is a verse in Ecclesiastes which speaks to this:

“Say not, ‘Why were the former days better than these?’ For it is not from wisdom that you ask this.”

Eccl. 7:10

I’ve heard myself say, “Things are so different now, I miss the seventies.” What do I mean exactly? Do I miss the days when I was poorer? Days when I was immature? Days when I made some wrong choices? Every decade has its own set of social problems. And it was the problems of those years which inspired the music of my generation.

The author of Ecclesiastes, (Solomon) knew speaking this way is not wise and can lead to discontent with the present. Seniors risk the danger of viewing the current culture through a negative lens. As we age we can become gloomy and withdraw from the world around us.

With my head stuck in the past, I miss all the beauty of today. This morning a ding from my phone indicates a text from my son. I smile as I watch a video of my one-year-old granddaughter dancing with bubbles. Her enthusiasm about this new discovery fills me with joy. Then I realize life in the year 2024 isn’t so bad after all. In the seventies I didn’t have a son, a granddaughter, or an iphone!

Remember the song, “Turn Turn Turn?”

“To everything, turn turn turn. There is a season, turn turn turn.

And a time for every purpose under heaven.”

These words originated with Solomon in Ecclesiastes, chapter 3. They were put to music thousands of years later by Pete Seeger and eventually recorded by the Byrds. I wonder what Solomon would think if he knew his wisdom, and words, outlasted the test of time?

I’m glad I have good memories of the past, but NOW IS THE TIME to make even better memories with my children and grandchildren.

How about you? Leave a comment and let me know if you can relate to my post. Let’s talk.

Lessons from Ground Hog Day

Ah… We can all breathe a sigh of relief. Spring is predicted to arrive early this year because Punxsutawney Phil did not see his shadow. For 138 years thousands of people have gathered at Gobbler’s Knob to see a ground hog predict the weather. Today’s news inspired me to “dig” around for a little more information.

Why February 2?

This date is halfway between the Winter Solstice (December 21) and Spring Equinox. (March 21)

How did Ground Hog Day begin?

The custom of using rodents to predict the weather was brought to the U.S. by German immigrants. The first celebration was held on February 2, 1877 at Gobbler’s Knob in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. That’s when newspaper editor Clymer Freas and his groundhog hunting club designated Punxsutawney Phil as the nation’s official rodent meteorologist.

Today a group called the “Inner Circle” treks to Gobbler’s Knob every year to play a part in the staging of Phil’s announcement. They dress in black suits, top hats, and speak Pennyslvania Dutch dialect.

The high point of the ceremony is when Phil emerges from his burrow and talks to the the “Inner Circle” president in “Groundhogese.” This language is only understood by the president of the club, who translates the message into English.

How accurate is Phil?

According to data supplied by NOAA and the Stormfax Almanac, Phil has been right 39% of the time. However, he did not show up at all in 1943 and no one knows why.

Art Inspired by Nature

February 2 reminds me of the movie “Ground Hog Day. “ (1993) Bill Murray plays the part of Phil Connors, a weather man who is assigned to report on the celebration in Punxsutawney. He hates his job, his colleagues, and the human race. Stuck in a time-warp, Phil is doomed to repeat Ground Hog Day until he learns how to love.

What if Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow? Are we condemned to live with perpetual winter for six more weeks? I don’t believe in rodent predictions. It’s hard enough to believe the day to day weather report.

Even so, I do believe attitude is everything. Like a hamster on a wheel, I can be stuck going nowhere. Life has no meaning without love. Ground Hog Day prompts me to appreciate the value of my relationships and enjoy every moment, of every season.

By the way, Valentine’s Day is coming soon.