A Sunday Stroll with Skints

The trailhead of the Paget Marsh

Sunday was another beautiful day, and since I didn't have to work decided to work on the list of things I need to see before I leave the island.  I couldn't possibly count the times I have driven by Paget Marsh -- so made Sunday the day to grab the camera and make the short trip to the area and see what there was to find in the Marsh.

Recall from our geography lesson in "Location, location, location" that Bermuda is a small country of only 20.6 square miles (according to Wikipedia).  So the Paget Marsh -- which takes up only a small area of a small Parish in a small country -- is a pretty small marsh as marshes go.  I parked my bike next to a car that was covered in little muddy cat prints and appeared to have been abandoned there for some time, and realized that I would be the only visitor to the Marsh at this time.  Not surprising really, in fact one of the things I like best about Bermuda is the general lack of a crowd.  As I pulled out my camera to photograph the trail head sign (if a short walk of about 200 metres constitutes a trail head), a monarch butterfly fluttered by and with wizard-like photography skills i snapped a flurry of photographs.  Fortunately I still have mortal status because each one was nothing more than a tease of blurred orange and black...at least I am still human.

Somehow, despite knowingly going to a marsh, I found myself looking with disdain at the stagnant water with its tiny buzzing insects and heavy undergrowth and found myself wishing i were wearing shoes rather than sandals.  A couple of signs promising to explain the marsh and it's ecosystem called to my inner geek and so i tred upon the short and creaky wooden bridge anyway.  The explanation was a little less than fascinating...a couple of porous rock hills made a little lake and the rock got clogged and now it's a marsh.  And despite the signs telling me which birds and ducks frequented the area, I didn't happen to see any.  I have seen more ducks racing my scooter on the roadside than I saw at the Marsh.  I did get a couple of nice views of mangroves mixed in with cedar, and an artsy shot of the woods collapsing in on itself which looks very similar to one I took in Canada. 

A tree that fell in the woods.  I didn't think anyone heard it, poor little thing.

As well, I got a few minutes in silence looking out from the center of the marsh onto some homes on the hill which gave me a bit of perspective of what Bermuda might look like if Sir George Somer's had known a better weather forecaster and not brought the human race onto the reefs, and subsequently the rocky lands, of Bermuda.

A very different view of what Bermuda would be without us.  I regret that humanity takes away so much.

But just as I was beginning to get a little disappointed, a few of my favorite specimens of Bermuda wildlife came to share my short walk with me.  There is something about these little critters that always bring a smile to my face.  I find them soooo cute and just love to watch them.  They are commonly called skinks in Bermuda, but I see heard them called geckos in the southern states of America. Therefore I decided to do a little research on what I have been calling skints for the last couple of years.  Yes, I said skints, because I thought that is what people were saying, but they meant skinks apparently.  Which makes me doubly wrong.



Best of Bermudian Fauna

Close up.  I think he is willing me to please stop photographing him by now.

According to the Government of Bermuda website, the ones that i commonly see are not skinks, nor skints, at all!  A skink, short for lizards of the Family Skincidae are definitely on the island, and commonly known as the Rock Lizard (of course).  However that little cutie as seen above is not a Skink, because it has a discernible neck and legs and more than 4 toes on the front feet (you can count them, 1-2-3-4-5!).  That bumps it out of the Family Skincidae and into...wait for it...Family Iguanidae as evidenced by the serrated climbing pads on their feet, the ability to change color rapidly, and a bizarre orange throat fan seen in the males.  Basically, they are chameleons!  In particular, this one is an Anolis grahami, which loosely translated means this lucky lizard is a Jamaican expat with permanent residency status.  The species was introduced in 1905 to control the fruit flies and has been happily darting about Bermuda rocks ever since.  It also eats small cockroaches which i believe is improving my quality of life on the island one tiny lizard bite at a time.

flashing me some colors like an adorable little mood ring

 

The male is considered to be highly territorial, and when trying to attract a mate or defend his spot, he will flash a bright orange neck fan and so a series of aggressive little push ups. If I find this so fascinating, imagine what the female chameleons think. An aside for male suitors of the human species, try dressing fabulously and working on your pecs...I think these little guys are onto something.  So now my title is no longer accurate, but will keep it as such to remind me of the delusion.  Was a short  but nice outing, thanks to the lizards who are very happy to have the swamp to themselves again.

Note the orange throat fan