Choppity-chop-chop. It's not a happy sound.
This sound often wakes me up early in the morning, and I say a prayer, especially when the sound goes on and on... and on.
Florida lizards are so common, it's easy to take them for granted. They sun themselves on the sidewalks, hunt by the light on porches at night, make love in the grass and on palm tress.
They lay tiny eggs in the moist, cool earth of my potted plants.
They scamper away as you approach them, but sometimes there are so many on a sidewalk or trail that it's difficult to not step on them.
But this is beyond the pale. I lay in my safe, soft, coupled bed, listening to the sound of the moment of death for one of God's creatures. I can only hope that death came quickly.
And on those thoughtful mornings, I am once again reminded of the fragility of our shared, universal life.
I start counting my blessings before my feet hit the floor, and think, what a lucky girl am I: born human, with eyes to see, and love in my heart.
And I vow to try to share my love and my luck with every living being I meet, because tomorrow never knows.
Tomorrow I may crawl into an air conditioner.