I’ve often described myself as somewhat reptilian because of the deep pleasure I get in sunning myself on a warm rock, a deck, or the beach. Or even lying on the warming mat for a massage, or feeling the embrace of the seat warmer in my car. My dad is even more of a reptile than I am, as he seems to mind neither heat nor cold, adjusting to either extreme with equanimity. He and I, two human lizards, walked among some pretty interesting reptile species on our trip to the Galápagos Islands.
The lava lizard is a small lizard, a little bit larger than the green anoles we have in Alabama. The females, who were looking for a mate, had a reddish head, and the males were speckled. They were cute, and even pretty, if lizards can be said to be pretty.
Land iguanas are large lizards of brownish-red, yellow, or orange coloring, about 3-5 feet in length. They sport a mohawk of spines from their necks to their tails. They are quite ancient looking, and a bit scary in appearance. We saw individuals scattered along a trail, sometimes silently guarding a burrow, sometimes munching away on a cactus, always in the sun.
Marine iguanas are truly unique. No other species of lizard swims and subsists on food obtained while under water. They are smaller than their land-loving cousins, growing up to three feet in length, and are typically sooty gray or black in color, with some subspecies having red, pink, or turquoise mottling of their scales. They sport blunt snouts and a crest of tall spikes running from the nape of their necks to their tails. I never witnessed it myself, but several in our group saw these guys grazing on their preferred food, algae, growing on rocks beneath the surface of the ocean. When they come back up for air, they clear their nostrils by shooting out salt water and nasal mucous. After munching on algae in the cool ocean waters, they swim back to shore using their flattened tails, then bask in the sun to bring their body temperatures back up. We saw masses of these lounging on rocks or on sand near the shore. Sometimes it was hard to see them, so well camouflaged by the black lava they preferred. It was a minor miracle that we never stepped on one. We would call out down our line of hikers, “Iguana!” and point one out.
These evolutionary ancient creatures were a reminder of the vast variety that exists in the animal world. They are not cute and cuddly, nor beautiful in any traditional way of thinking. In fact, Darwin, on his visit to these islands, said that the land iguanas were “ugly animals, [with] a singularly stupid appearance,” and that the land iguanas were “disgusting, clumsy lizards.” When I showed my twenty-two month old granddaughter a photograph of one and asked her what she thought it was, she said, “Dinosaur.” “You’re right!” I replied.
Reptiles have been around for millions of years. They are persistent and enduring, if not endearing. Wandering among these living dinosaurs, relics of the past, I felt like I was getting a glimpse of a long-ago world, an appreciation of how old this speck of dust is, and what an insignificant amount of time we humans have been here.
I’ll tell you about the Galápagos’ most famous reptile, the giant tortoise, next week.