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.

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!

Gray Skies

over my head

a mysterious forecast hangs in the balance

uncommitted to rain or sun

plagued with a loss of vibrancy

dull, heavy, and fixed

beyond my reach.

Then I remember,

my captain orders the seasons

He quiets my spirit and takes me

where peace abounds…

among the barren and stunted blades.

Dear Readers, I am writing to you from the “Sunshine State,” only the sun seems to have disappeared. In these bleak January days, may you sense God’s love for you in spite of the weather. Remember, He is always in control.

Inspired by: “He speaks to the sun and it does not shine: he seals off the light of the stars.” Job 9:7 NIV

New Year, Same Me

The countdown to 2024 has begun! What are you thinking about this week? Yesterday I received a text from a local gym encouraging to me to buy a membership for 2024. After all, a new year means a new me. The text made me step on the scales and scratch my head wondering, just how did I manage to gain those extra pounds in December?

This time of year we open our closets and cupboards to see they are just as stuffed as we are. The new year brings an urgency to downsize, organize, and exercise our way into a new reality.

Let’s be honest. The resolutions you make will probably be the resolutions you break. Do you even remember the goals you set for 2023? By April, the change you desired evaporated with the winter snow.

Something within our human nature makes us desire a “better” future. All of a sudden whatever happened this year isn’t good enough. We hope 2024 will be better. We think changing our appearance, buying a new car, or taking a vacation can fulfill us. Our focus remains on ourself and what we can do to make us happy. But is that how real happiness is found?

When we seek tangible things in order to be happy we can be let down if it doesn’t happen. And if we somehow achieve our goal, our happiness is short-lived. We find ourselves striving for the next achievement, no longer content with where we are today.

What do you want to take with you from 2023? Think about the wisdom you gained instead of the pounds.

I want to live the life I have instead of longing for the life I might have in the future. After all, how much of life is under my control? I can live my best life now. I want to look around and thank God for time spent with friends and family. I want personal advancement to take a back seat to my relationships with others.

Each day is an opportunity for something amazing to happen. I want to get up in the morning and wonder… “What does God have for me today?”

Keep your eyes and heart open to whatever God has for you. It might be something you never resolved to obtain. And that my friends, is the beauty of life!

Time to Write

In my day to day life I am frequently bombarded with distractions which stop me from writing. One day I scheduled all of my “important” errands in the morning so I could write in the afternoon. My errands took longer than expected. After spending a painful two hours at the dentist office, dropping off unwanted clothes at Goodwill, going to the bank, and shopping for groceries, I felt exhausted. When I finally arrived back home, I couldn’t string one sentence together if my life depended on it. My empty stomach growled, so I warmed a cup of soup and sat down to relax.

That cup of soup was the only good thing about my day. I felt irritated with myself for trying to get everything done at once. Sometimes I’m my own worst enemy. There’s nothing worse than a grumpy writer. Do you feel angry or depressed when you don’t write?

As I sipped my hot soup, I assessed my situation. What possessed me to try to do so much at once? I thought back to some of my childhood experiences and made some interesting discoveries. My parents taught me to work first, then play. This idea spilled over to my adulthood. Since writing is pleasurable to me, it should come second. And if I have a lot of work to do, I never get to play. One day slips into another and before I know it, I haven’t written anything for a month.

As a student, my teachers conducted class using the same philosophy. I had to finish my assignment before I could go to the reading corner. Those were the rules. As a teacher myself, I expected the same from my students. Every progress report included a box— “Student uses free time wisely.” Most students would receive a grade of satisfactory. But honestly, some students never had any free time. How sad.

Now I am seeing the importance of writing in the morning. I can focus better, and get into a creative flow. Ideas come easy to me when I am rested. If you are a writer, I’m sure you’ve discovered what time works for you. We must protect our time to write. This means scheduling appointments, errands, and chores outside of our best time to create.

As I write this blog, I recognize my strong work ethic. I place a high value on productivity. That’s fine as long as I can triage my efforts. When I plan my day I need to prioritize time to write. Writing needs to be first.

The word vocation comes from the Latin, meaning “calling.” A calling is initiated by God for his purpose. Since I feel called to write, my vocation is writing. If I look at writing as my vocation, the adult voice within me gives permission to write first and not feel guilty about it. I believe I am finding my way out of this maze.

How about you? Do you have a habit of checking off your to-do list before you sit down to write? How do you schedule time to pursue your artistic calling? Leave a comment. I’d love to hear from you.