Lizard Supermodel

On the bright side of things, social distancing started in the early spring, where sitting outside could be enjoyed with a cool breeze and no pesky Southern gnats. Those of us who reside in Southeast Georgia and Northeast Florida know what I’m talking about.

One beautiful morning, I haul my cup of coffee and Canon Rebel T6 outside to enjoy the morning air and the song and dance of the Georgia Backyard Birds. In these parts, brown thrashers, blue jays, and northern cardinals are common. The day before, I kicked myself for not grabbing my camera before lounging in my chair, as all variety of birds flit about the back yard. Today I was fully prepared to photograph those beauties, with my Canon – EF 75-300mm zoom lens on my camera. I settled in, taking a deep breath. Turning on my camera, I relaxed and sipped my coffee, listening to the birds rustling in the trees, singing and calling to each other. Ah, a blue jay briefly landed on the fence but was gone before I could even grab the camera off my lap. A couple of brown thrashers played around in the trees making all sorts of noise but were too far back to get a good shot. I sighed. It was as if they knew I was ready for them this particular day and decided to punish me by staying just out of shot. Thirty minutes passed, and the last drops of my coffee were now disgustingly tepid. I resigned myself that today wasn’t the day—

“Wait a tic?” I voiced as I noticed something rustling in the shrubs nearby where I was sitting. It sounded much too small to be a bird unless it was a hummingbird. What a shot that would be. But no, it was not a hummingbird. Finally, he emerged from the brush and landed on the concrete with authority. There he was, staring me down as if he owned the place. Acutely aware of my presence, this Lacertilia flared his throat fan and puffed up his body. I was like, oh my. He was so close, and my camera was at the ready. Prancing a few steps forward, he stopped again, cocking his head to see if I was watching. My camera was up to my eye as I began to focus on this feisty lizard. Now he bobbed his head up and down for a few seconds, continuing to flaunt his dewlap. This little guy was putting on a show. Of course, I’m sure he was asserting his dominance as he made his way past me, heading to the confederate jasmine vine, but to me, it seemed he wanted me to photograph him. And shoot him, I did. He glanced my way again as if assuring that I captured his best side.

Click, click, click.

Oh, how he posed now. Darting his head left, and then right. Neck fluff—click! Damn, I missed it again. It seemed he was toying with me as if he knew I was trying to get a shot of his gorgeous pink fan that he sported so proudly. But I’d click either too soon or too late. In hindsight, I should have changed the setting on my camera to continuous mode. The reptile scampered closer to the vine, but not before stopping and performing a series of push-ups for me. I laughed, and that’s when he turned towards the camera, posing for the shot that is pictured above. I got a handful of amazing photos of that lizard supermodel. Overall, I was pleased to have such a willing subject, which was bold, daring, and confident, and even a little playful.