Whilst visiting the Domaine des Courmettes, I’m taking advantage of the presence of several populations of ocellated lizards on the site to try and spot some. Accompanied by an intern who knows the area well, and with advice from Charlotte, the head of the nature department, we head to the spots most likely to yield sightings of the lizard. The aim? To spot them and try to locate their burrows.
Given the ocellated lizard’s shy nature, the task proves tricky. Indeed, if it senses an intruder approaching, its first reaction is to flee into its burrow or towards a nearby shelter to hide. We could spend several hours in the field without spotting a single one…
But what is the ocellated lizard?
The ocellated lizard is the largest lizard in Europe: it can grow up to 70 cm in length. Compared to the well-known wall lizard, it’s a giant! Its body is covered in pale green scales, marbled with black and dotted with blue ocelli on its sides. At first glance, it is therefore easy to recognise.
It prefers fairly arid, sunny areas with low vegetation. Its body temperature depends on the temperature of its surroundings. To warm itself up, it basks in the sun, which explains its preference for arid areas.
Its presence on the Courmettes estate is an indicator of healthy ecosystems. Indeed, if it is there, it is because it can find food. It feeds on insects, particularly beetles and other small arthropods. Its presence indicates that these are abundant. If these insects are there, it is because they can find food, showing that the plants and soil are healthy. This is the principle of the ecosystem and its complex interactions.
The encounter with the lizard
As we approach a spot where lizards have previously been spotted, we’re immediately in for a pleasant surprise: perched on a rock, a ocellated lizard is basking in the sun. So we start by observing it through binoculars. We’d like to find out where this individual has its den. To do this, I stay back, keeping watch through the binoculars, whilst my colleague tries to get closer.
A crunch of footsteps, and we’ve been spotted! The lizard darts between the rocks. So begins a little game of stealth, on both sides. It knows we’re there and will only emerge very cautiously. We want to get closer to observe it better, so we make ourselves as inconspicuous as possible.
For a moment, I feel like Vincent Munier on the trail of his snow leopard. Just for a moment, because there’s no snow here and no decent camera to capture the moment!
When it shows itself again, we stand frozen. It doesn’t emerge fully, but its head is clearly visible, on the lookout. At that moment, I realise something: even though I’d seen magnificent photos of the ocellated lizard, there’s nothing better than seeing it in the flesh. Even from a little way off, even with a mediocre image quality. Indeed, an interaction has developed between us. For a few minutes, our paths have crossed. Two very different creatures of God, yet part of the whole. And this interaction—no photograph or video could ever capture it.
Reconnecting with nature
What if that is what reconnecting with nature is all about? Taking the time to interact with these creatures, treating each one with respect. Watching the way a lizard’s eyelid moves when it blinks. Listening to the variations in the song of the blackbird that lives near our home. Watching the interplay between the tree branches and the wind that makes them dance. There is a whole hymn of praise to the glory of God in this, which motivates us even more to preserve life.
Yoanna, Ambassadors network coordinator