I started a blog post mumble-mumble months (years) ago about the humming birds that were nesting in my apartment patio (I think they're Anna's Hummingbirds)I was going to say all sorts of lovely things about the environment and gardening without chemicals, stuff like that. But then I stopped blogging, and I focused on pretty much everything else.... and then I moved. Now I have a place only 30 minutes from the old apartment, and hummingbirds abound. I think I have Rufous, Anna's, and Allens, but I'm not sure so don't go betting any money on it.What I am obsessed with now is the incredible diversity of tiny critters that inhabit my suburban garden. I must apologize in advance for not having the sense to take photos of all of the species that have come forth so far (northern rubber boa, aroboreal salamander, slender salamander, the neighbor's cats, and countless birds). I have only photos of this very patient little dude... here's our story:I was cutting (digging/swearing/chopping) out one of the dreaded Lantana in the front yard. While I was whacking and wheezing and pulling at the stubborn Lantana stump, a teensy tiny baby lizard jumped on my hand. I screamed like a little girl right there in my front yard where everyone on the block would be able to tell who the big baby was. I ASSUMED that the intrepid little lizard had bounced off and gone about its business, since it quickly vacated my hand.I know you're anticipating its return already, clearly it did NOT leave me and go about its business! That dad gum lizard showed up FOUR HOURS later... on the front of my t-shirt, after I had come inside, grabbed a snack, changed some of my clothes (ha ha, little lizard, very clever!) and... get this.... climbed into bed to read a novel. There I am, plate of cheese and crackers, no shoes, hands and face washed, beverage with ice, feet under the covers, and ta-da! the same teensy lizard bounces smack on the front of my t-shirt between my murder mystery and my face.I am very proud to inform you that I managed not to scream like a bitch this time. In a very grown-up and mature way, I put down the book, slid off the bed, opened the curtains and the sliding glass door, and bent over ever so gracefully so my little friend could relocate to the railing just outside.It is still out there, hanging in the back yard and waiting for me to come out. I see it from the kitchen window almost daily, and pretty much every time I go out to water, there it is. I can't be sure that I'm not looking at a ton of look-a-likes, but who cares when they're this cute!?