Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the Salina, not a creature was stirring, not a single Cyclura.
The stockings were piled by the boots in a heap, in the hopes that some of us might get some sleep!
The trackers were collapsing one by one into beds, while visions of maiden plum danced in their heads.
And iguanas in cages and iguanas in parks, had all settled down, just before dark.
When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I sleepily did go, for dozens of roosters had started to crow.
When first rays of light shone onto the floor, I knew it was time to head for the door.
When what to my half open eyes should appear, but a tall sleepy Fred holding coffee and gear.
With a long curvy drive going out to the park, the post-Ivan Cayman looked roofless and stark.
With a sharp jagged pathway and a long tedious walk, I knew in a moment it must be cliff rock.
Then gradually out of their retreats they came, and we quietly followed and listed by name.
Came Wymp and Yerp, and Burp and Grape,
Then Gypsie and Egypt and Yarrow and Wop, came Rambo and Wribbit and Gewpy and Gop. Out to the rock, to the top of the retreat, the signal receiver went beep beep beep beep.
Through trees that before the wild hurricane stood, we followed iguanas through cliff rock and woods.
So down the trail to find lizards I walked, to retreat 49 twas Oppie I stalked.
As I punched in the code and was turning around, down fell Oppie from a tree to the ground.
She was ridged with spines from head to tail, and patches of skin were turning quite pale.
A piercing with beads orange pale blue and yellow, this young female lizard was surprisingly mellow.
Her tail ringed with spikelets her toes long and slender, at this age it's too difficult to tell them by gender.
Her head was so torquoise it looked like the sea, from her look I could tell she was tempted to flee.
Her belly was plump, and her eyes so dark red, that they looked like squashed berries in the sides of her head.
She blended into the rock as a measure of stealth, and I laughed when I saw her in spite of myself.
A wink of her eye and a twist of her head, soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
She spoke not a word but went on with her eating, and I decided to type you this holiday greeting.
And here once again as the bugs start to bite,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
- posted by cxjo @ 9:49 AM