Water for Lizards

Water for Lizards

The Sara Gruen novel, Water for Elephants sold 10 million copies and became a hit movie staring Reese Witherspoon, Robert Pattinson and Christoph Waltz. It caught my fancy because it follows the circus life of a young man who must drop out of veterinary school at Cornell and takes to tending elephants for a job. Elephants are strange beasts that inspire all sorts of imagination and whimsy. They are the largest land mammals and are a focus of significant human concern. They get exhibited in zoos and circuses and are the victims often of cruel-hearted men in many stories. In one such story (Dumbo), the calf of one such circus elephant even learns how to fly using his overly large ears, a prominent feature along with the trunk or proboscis. Someone is always trying to save the elephants.

One of my favorite elephant stories involves Kim’s home town of Wabash, Indiana. The town has a storied past, but strangely enough, it has nothing to do with the Wabash Cannonball, the song written in the Nineteenth Century about The Great Rock Island Route, which traversed the midsection of the country from Western Indiana to Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas and New Mexico. While the song, most popularly covered by Johnny Cash, is associated with Indiana State and Purdue, it is only due to the existence of the similarly named Wabash River, which runs through those towns, as it does through Kim’s home town of Wabash. Wabash is near Peru, Indiana, which was the winter home of the Ringling Brothers Circus. But it was the Great American Circus that came to Wabash in 1942 with its two elephants, Empress and Modoc. Some local dogs spooked the elephants and Modoc lit out on a five-day rampage through the streets of Wabash, until he was subdued with loaves of bread and six quarts of whiskey. All of Wabash remembers Modoc, but sweet Empress is a faded memory. There must be a moral in that.

In the Water for Elephants story, the moral is that love always prevails. It is Jacob’s love for Rosie the elephant that gains him the love of Marlene the acrobat. And it is their love for each other and for Rosie that prevails and gives us the happily-ever-after ending to this sweet story. I like to think that Cornell men are righteous and worthy of love, but that may too sweeping of a generalization, even for fiction.

The Western states seem always to be in drought. There have been countless stories both true and fictional about the importance and the drama surrounding riparian rights and the economic growth of the state of California. We all remember Roman Polanski slitting Jack Nicholson’s nose for snooping around the Los Angeles reservoir in Chinatown. We are hearing more and more about water shortages given the drying up of the overused Colorado River that feeds half the reservoirs in the Western states. Water is s big deal out here and that may just be a precursor for the trials ahead for the rest of the world.

When I bought this place ten years ago, the owner/gardener pleaded with me to spare the water or ruin the cacti. I have tried that and been warned by Joventino (last summer) that I was slowly killing my succulents. So, I spruced up the irrigation system with the help of my guy Andre, and now I have a 24-zone automated system that I can control from my iPhone and that takes into account the weather and especially any rainfall.

Nevertheless, I spend s good bit of time hand watering. Some of this is due to all the new plantings on the back hillside and some is to be sure everything flourishes. I have become a doting gardener who wants to spoil my plants with care and water. I often remember the prior owner’s words while watering and only sparsely water the cacti. Even the wild Agaves and Monkey Flower Plants get water because I attribute to them a degree of jealousy that everyone else on the hillside is getting s drink and so should they.

While watering, I often encounter lizards sunning themselves on the rocks. At first I figured that lizards, like all living creatures need water too. And yet, they always scurry away when I’m watering. If they like water, they sure don’t show it. The humming birds actually come to the water stream and sometimes fly straight through it while the lizards run and hide. Then I figured that as reptiles (not specifically amphibians though one could make that mistake) they are cold-blooded and fear their body temperatures cooling down due to water. They are desert creatures that bask in the sun after all. So, I have started showing the lizards more respect when I water. I cut them a wide berth and do not purposely try to squirt them. I have yet to spy a snake while watering, but I suspect I will leave them alone and move slowly away.

I love to water my garden. I love to sit on my patio and listen to the babbling sound of the spa waterfall as it circulates in the afternoon. I love to sit in the garden and watch and listen to the basalt fountain as it bubbles away and dives down under the rocks to go find its home in the underground reservoir where the recirculating pump lives. Succulents retain water, which is what makes them such drought-tolerant plants, perfect for these Western climes on the high chaparral. None do the job better than cacti, which proliferate all around my property. We used to think watering would draw snakes, but I’m now not so sure. I haven’t seen a snake on my property since May (Joventino has twice said he has seen one in an area I don’t go into). I am unwilling to curtail my plant watering due to snake prevention, especially since it seems less correlated than others advise. Maybe it’s just been a wet enough or not so hot year and other years will tell a different tale. All I can do is wait and see.

My watering habits cost me some money, but I’m ok with that. Water is the stuff of life. I need water to be happy. Elephants need water to be happy. Even lizards need water, which I’m sure they partake of in their own sly reptilian way. In my story, the moral is that life always prevails. I have said before and I’m struck again with the notion that long after I am dust in the wind, this hilltop will still teem with life. Some I would like, like the quail and the bunnies. Some I would dislike like the rattlesnakes. And some like the lizards, the hawks, the bobcats and the coyotes I have learned to tolerate because it is more their hillside than mine. I am like the irrigation water on this property, I am just a visitor passing through.