Skip to main content

New blooms

I thought, at first, that it was dead. It was just laying there in the grass. Even when my dog almost stepped on it, it didn't move. Even when she almost pooped directly on top of it, it didn't move. Even when she started kicking dirt all over the place, it didn't move. I was also surprised she didn't notice it.

But there in the grass was a huge horned lizard.

As I stared down at it, an ant crawled across its eye. I squatted down to get a closer look and, indeed, there crawled a tiny black ant across the lizard's eye. I was sure, then, that it was dead but then its eyelid moved, trying to squeeze the ant's prying mandibles away. Still, my dog didn't notice it laying there. But I was fascinated. It blinked a few more times before the ant finally gave up trying to get into its eye and crawled across the lizard's scaly face toward its nostril. The lizard opened its eye and we both watched the ant try and crawl its way into the lizard's nose, but the ant was too big to fit.

I watched the lizard for a while more, waiting for its tongue to dart out and grab the ant but the moment never came. The ant continued crawling all over the lizard's mouth and the lizard continued to lay there in the grass, apparently unconcerned by the trespasser. And I couldn't help but wonder why this lizard, who was clearly alive, wouldn't just eat this ant that was actively trying to crawl into its mouth.

I came to realize that, maybe, I was the problem.

Maybe the lizard was less concerned with eating the ant than worrying about my intentions as I loomed over it. And as we walked away, leaving the lizard and ant to their own lives, I wondered if maybe that was the key I'd been missing lately.

Sometimes you can't just expect things to happen. Sometimes you just have to walk away and trust that what you're sure will happen, will happen. Sometimes a horned lizard and an ant need space.

Sometimes if you want to tell a story, you have to find other stories to tell.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I'm a geologist, not an alcoholic.

I thought I had seen people drink before. Hell, I thought that I had drank before. But, clearly, I thought wrong on both of those counts. I cannot, for the life of me, think of a reason to justify all of the drinking that transpired down there last week. There was no rhyme or reason to it, it just was. Field work just makes a man thirsty. Taking this class was easily one of the best things I've ever done. We worked hard every day out in the field. Wake up at 7, leave the beach house by 8, hit the water by 9. My first three field days were in service on the R/V Acadiana , a 58 foot vessel that towed the CHIRP fish , the air gun, and the streamer to measure all the seismic data--looking at the subsurface of the seafloor we drove over. My second ship was the R/V Itasca using the multibeam , sidescan , and grab sampler --getting seafloor surface bathymetry. They were long, exhausting days and we returned to the docks around 6 or 7 every evening. And then, drinking. So much ...
1 comment
Read more

Finger pointing good.

When I was on the boat doing science at Galveston, I saw a lot of dolphins. It was a significant experience for me because I have never actually seen a wild dolphin in real life before. It was sort of a dream come true. And in the middle of the shipping channel, no less. They really are amazing animals. It really kills me to realize I'll probably never see dolphins in Galveston again because of what happened to the Gulf. What is happening to the Gulf. It really is a tragedy. On a much lighter note, I started this Insanity workout program and it was so intense that I threw up before I finished the first workout. That is a good sign, I think. It is certainly an incentive to complete the entire thing. Anything that makes you feel that bad so quickly must be good for you.
3 comments
Read more

The goodest, even.

A couple of days ago, as I was leaving the research campus with my friend to go home, a woman approached me with her bike. "Excuse me," she said. "By any chance, are you headed that way?" She pointed off in the general direction that was the only way to leave campus. "Why yes." I said. "If it's not too much to ask," she started. "Because my bicycle has a flat tire--" "Sure." I said. "We can fit your bike in here, too." And with that, we drove a Belgian woman home. She told us about her family back in Belgium and how we have a better education system here and we're more bike friendly than Europe and how she misses her family and Skypes with them in the evenings. We dropped her off and continued on our original route. Later, as I entered the final stretch of my homeward journey, I saw a large something in the road. As I got closer, I realized it was a large turtle. I quickly pulled off into the should...
3 comments
Read more