Rendezvous With Intrepid Lizard

Our adventure for the day is nearly complete. It was a hike into Surprise Valley, beginning at the base of Deer Creek Falls, up into the Narrows, with final destination being Dutton Springs, that huge gush of water spewing from the vertical face of a far canyon wall, then tracing our footsteps back to the falls. It’s another day designed by the Deity, canyon blue sky, canyon itself brought to brilliance, compliments of “Ole Sol”, a day of comfortable warmth, a bringer of high spirits and bounding enthusiasm.
We have managed the semi treacherous descent to the pool at the base of the falls, and having a bit of leisure, I climb up to the nearly level surface of one of the house-sized rock which serve as portals on each side of the cascade, my purpose being to bask in the afternoon sun and be bathed in the total peace which this place revives in one’s being.
I am sitting near the edge, my bare legs partly drawn up. Two flies land just above my ankle. Are flies attracted to unsavory sites? As in manure, or dead rotting flesh? They are perched on my lower leg and I’m wondering —maybe I should grab my bar of soap and get in the river more often.
All this profound thought is suddenly brought to a halt by the abrupt appearance of our intrepid lizard. He spots the flies on my leg and the dinner bell rings. His hunger pangs render him totally fearless and he moves in very closely, a creature preying on his victims. He then, (I’m bestowing masculinity upon him because this is one cool dude!) folds his tail over his back and rapidly whips it side to side.

I don’t know whether it’s in excitement at the prospect of a meal or a means of mesmerizing the fly into an hypnotic trance. But hey, who can fathom the mind of a lizard? It is all quite fascinating to behold. I’m also mesmerized by this bizarre goings on, when, zap! With a full body lunge my lizard captures his fly. He backs away ever so slightly and relishes his treat, rolling it around in his mouth. Do I detect a smile on his tiny face? Yes! But wait! Another fly, in poor judgement, takes the place of our first victim. With a renewed sense of purpose, my (there’s a growing hint of ownership here) lizard dispatches fly number one into a far abdominal abyss, and sets his sights on fly number two. Isn’t one fly enough to satisfy? Do I sense a mild case of gluttony here?
The same ritual is replayed, eyes fixed on quarry, tail over back, whipping side to side, though not so rapidly this time. Then glom! Another catch! He moves with such speed both times that these aging eyes can scarcely see the quickness of his attack. Then again, the same savoring of his meal, and same “smile”. Fly number two then joins fly number one in roiling digestive juices and my lizard retreats over the edge to become a creature of memory.
And I ponder: how wonderful it is, that in 280 miles of unsurpassed majesty that is the Grand Canyon, it is my great privilege to witness this one fleeting moment of minute magic.
Joe Kutter