The other day while poking around our detached garage (where we've been spending most of our days trying to divest ourselves of our accumulated junk and refashion the space into a craft studio and office) I saw a most amazing thing: a lizard.
Amazing because in Michigan lizards are few (only two species) and far between. I remember my father, a farmer who'd lived much of his life out of doors, commenting that he'd only seen an actual lizard (as opposed to salamanders and mud puppies, which some of the country folks lump into the same category) in the wild perhaps twice during his agricultural career. I myself had only ever seen one once as a child. During our trip to Orlando a couple years ago I couldn't get over the ubiquitous and at times Jurassic-Park-ishly disquieting presence of the little green anoles who seemed to be lurking in all the shrubbery.
So anyway, there was this lizard sunning itself on the landscaping stones around the garage foundation. I was fascinated by its sleek profile and curious, quirky manner. We spent a second or two sizing up one another. Then it quickly shot up underneath the siding.
I looked up the little creature I'd seen, and discovered that it was a six-lined racerunner, a lizard that, as its name implies, has a need for speed. It also seems to not only tolerate but enjoy hot temperatures, which makes our garage's sunny south side a logical choice for its summer R&R.
I'm kind of tickled that this critter has taken up residence at our place, and hope it lives a long, fulfilled life hunting bugs around the building and in our nearby garden.