The white coping on the edge of the platform is no place for a blue tongue lizard or for the excited children dancing around it. The poor creature keeps swerving to peer over the edge of the platform clearly looking for a hidey hole or just an escape from the kids. But there’s nothing out there but a one and half metre drop and no purchase for lizard claws. I grab my long-handled brush and shovel and go to scoop it up. It bites at the brush and then it crouches down and makes itself as wide and flat as it can so that it looks like its swallowed a saucer. “I’m too big to eat,” it’s saying. Finally it decides the shovel is a hidey hole and darts inside.
I lower the shovel down over the edge of the platform and before I’ve reached the ground the lizard jumps out and skitters into the safe shadows.