in santorini i notice a small salamander resting in the crevice of cooled bricks.
it is brown and green and gray and seems content in its rest.
taking advantage of its immobility, i lay on the floor,
stomach adding heat to tile,
i am freckled by the sun.
is this enough camouflage to disguise my presence
or do my eyes give me away?
likely the latter.
i try to slow my blinking
but it is hard to stop my body's automaton response
honed over 32 years.
the salamander is uninterested with me
and my one-sided babble of inquiry.
why do i feel the need to hear my voice?
rays of sunshine reach me and i grow tired of trying so hard.
i fall into waking dreams of
folgers coffee containers holding anxious amphibians
and of newly learned greek superstitions surrounding fire and these creatures.
i blink and my companion is gone
and i learn a simple lesson
of the wisdom of gathering heat to move
and of surrendering to stillness in the meantime.