Tag Archives: crocodiles

Crocs, Iguanas and Relatives for RDP

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This croc and others live in the river across the road from a house I have stayed in in La Manzanilla.
One swam within 10 feet of me as I did my daily water aerobics in the ocean in front of my house. Bystanders watched it swim behind me without commenting–until later. Thanks, guys!!!
Here’s a smaller relative.
And an iguana.
An artistic rendering of an iguana by my friend Laurie.
Art or nature? You decide.
My early morning alarm clock, this fellow tried his darndest to get me to come to my sliding glass door.
He bumped his head and scratched at the door with no success.

Click on photos to enlarge and read captions.

The Ragtag Daily Prompt is Reptilian

These are all reptiles I either visited in La Manzanilla  (where some of them visited me) or found in my garden. Luckily, the larger ones I left behind when I came back home to San Juan Cosala!!! Oh, and you may have detected that a couple of them are artistic renderings.

How Not to Walk a Crocodile

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How Not to Walk a Crocodile

I’ll admit, it’s been a while
since I walked a crocodile,
so my technique is rather rusty
and my memory is dusty.
Still, I’ll tell you if you sit awhile
how not to walk a crocodile!

Don’t walk him through the butcher shop.
The butcher will just call a cop.
Don’t visit bakeries at all.
His roar will cause the cakes to fall.
That store where Mother bought her dress?
No place to walk your croc, I’d guess.

And though your pet may need some air,
it’s best that you don’t take him where
small dogs are left out for our viewing
just right for crocodile chewing.
Dog parks do not work for crocs
Find a new place for your walks.

Don’t walk him on your grandma’s floor.
She’ll sweep you both right out the door.
Don’t take him to your Sunday School.
He’s sure to break the Golden Rule.
And if you take him to the deli,
no saying what ends in his belly.

I’ll share a secret with you now.
It is, I really don’t know how
to take a crocodile for a walk.
All of this has just been talk.
And can I guess by your big smile,
you do not have a crocodile?

I guess it was the recent sighting of a croc on the beach at night that sent this little ditty rushing into my head this morning. I would love to have someone illustrate this.  Anyone want to try? Send a sketch of your vision of the croc in one of the given situations. You can either email it to me or put it on your blog and send me a link!
Here’s a photo of the croc that was on the beach near the house I rent. You could see my house in the background if it were light! Photo by Susana Vijaya. (She estimated the croc to be 3 meters long!)

Update: If you’re not ready to leave croc world yet, here’s an oldie but goodie. (Thanks to Marilyn for the memory jog.)

Boat Ride through the Mangroves

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Yesterday my friends Lach, Becky and I took a late afternoon boat ride through the beautiful mangrove forest ecological preserve in La Manzanilla, Mexico to view dozens of bird species as well as the iguanas and crocodiles. ( Click on any photo to enlarge them all:)

The End!!!

This certainly qualified as entertainment!

Not to Taste

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We spend so much of our time choosing, discussing, cooking or devouring food that we consider to be flavorful, but rarely do we consider just how flavorful we ourselves may be.

Not to Taste

I have no taste for seafood—neither sea bass nor crustacean.
My friends’ attempts to feed them to me end in their frustration.
I cannot stand the taste of them—their odor nor their texture.
I’ve heard that they are good for me, so please spare me the lecture!

When I was in New Orleans, they tried to feed me gator.
I politely turned it down and had a burger later.
For though a gator’s not a fish, and that’s something I know,
they must be family somehow, ‘cause both live in H2O!

Sometimes I go out birding up a river by the sea.
The grandson of the captain comes along to talk to me.
The river’s full of crocodiles, and birds overhead
fly in by the thousands to seek their evening bed.

They rest so gently in the trees that I forget the threat
of all those crocs there down below, lurking in the wet.
Most of the year the estuary’s cut off from the sea,
but this year there was one big rain that set the river free.

When I was swimming Saturday, beyond the surf, just me,
I saw some people looking at—whatever could it be?
I just went on exercising in the surf and sand.
The sun went down but I stayed out. The water was just grand.

But when I finally came to land, folks there on the beach
told me that a croc passed by, well beyond my reach.
And since I, too, was out there as handy as could be,
I sure am glad that crocodile had no taste for me!!!!

Today’s prompt word is flavorful. This poem found in my archives was written so long ago that I had forgotten it.  Hopefully, you have, too. The beautiful photo of ceviche was snapped in La Manzanilla, as was the photo of the croc. The event described in the poem was true, by the way. Since then I’ve instructed friends to call me in out of the water no matter how far away the croc is!

Guest Blog by Fred Apstein

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Crocodile Contemplates by Baba Rum Fred

5 AM Melaque bus station concrete seat with chipped tile. I feel like I’m in a Kerouac story. Lost boy, I wait for dawn, and an open restaurant. A metaphor for enlightenment and nourishment of the soul, on these lonely streets in the half light of a new day.

Finally, an open door at Posada Clements, a place I connect, with no evidence, to Samuel Clements (Mark Twain). I leave my bag and guitar, go in search of food, and, later, my friend Nathan. He awakes at my knock, and we go for coffee.

La Manzanilla. The Little Apple. A long sand beach, bracketed by lagoons, home to large crocodiles, at each end. The crocs appear to like their freshwater havens. They emerge only unwillingly, when washed into the sea by occasional torrential rains. What ancient wisdom sits in their reptilian minds, eyes and nostrils in the air, bodies and huge jaws below the surface, as they wait, older than mountains, patient, ready to erupt, jaws wide, deadly teeth bared, to rend the life out of a careless bird or dog.

    We frolic, on the beach, and in the town, newcomers, where crocs, palms, and egret lived for millenea before our ancestors walked upright. We share the lizard brain, but our kind has upper lobes, the ability to rationalize. We bite the Little Apple, pretend to know good and evil. We are soft, and vulnerable. But somehow, neither crocs nor fevers have so far stemmed our impatient spread over the planet.

      The crocs are patient. When we have passed through, they will be where they have been. They will wait for whatever bird or beast follows us, as they waited for those that came before us.

       What ancient, simple wisdom did we share, and have we lost?

 

Since Fred doesn’t have his own blog, I asked if I could feature this piece by him in mine.

Cee’s Oddball Photo Challenge 42

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DSC01133

Is it just me, or do the upside-down shoes look sorta angry and threatening? I think these shoes could give a toddler a complex.

DSC01126

Yes, you are correct. This sign in Spanish is telling us not to molest the crocodiles! I trust on the other side was a sign telling the crocodiles not to molest us! For the rest of the story, go here.

http://ceenphotography.com/2014/12/21/cees-odd-ball-photo-challenge-week-42/

Not to Taste

4 Replies
DSC09845

I took this picture in the river mentioned in the poem, but just noticed something. Doesn’t that look like a winged gnomish sprite looking down on the croc? (Center of photo, above the croc.)

 

Not to Taste

I have no taste for seafood—neither sea bass nor crustacean.
My friends’ attempts to feed them to me end in their frustration.
I cannot stand the taste of them—their odor nor their texture.
I’ve heard that they are good for me, so please spare me the lecture!

When I was in New Orleans, they tried to feed me gator.
I politely turned it down and had a burger later.
For though a gator’s not a fish, and that’s something I know,
they must be kin somehow, ‘cause both live in H2O!

Sometimes I go out birding up a river by the sea.
The grandson of the captain comes along to talk to me.
The river’s full of crocodiles, and birds overhead
fly in by the thousands to seek their evening bed.

They rest so gently in the trees that I forget the threat
of all those crocs there down below, lurking in the wet.
Most of the year the estuary’s cut off from the sea,
but this year there was one big rain that set the river free.

When I was swimming Saturday, beyond the surf, just me,
I saw some people looking at—whatever could it be?
I just went on exercising in the surf and sand.
The sun went down but I stayed out. The water was just grand.

But when I finally came to land, folks there on the beach
told me that a croc passed by, well beyond my reach.
And since I, too, was out there as handy as could be,
I sure am glad that crocodile had no taste for me!!!!