There are a little more than 400 known species of reptile on Madagascar.
More than 90% of them are endemic; the island sometimes described as “the eighth continent” is their only home.
Lemurs and chameleons are its “emblematic” animals; almost all of the former are endemic to Madagascar, which is also the only home to nearly half of the world’s chameleon species.
Discover/see more here.
When the current crisis is over, and Pelican Yoga returns to “normal”, there will be more posts about particular lemur species…and about certain other aspects of Madagascar.
(if you are new to this cyberpatch – and are hankering for much more about Madagascar – simply search for it by name, via the little magnifying glass icon which is always on top right hand side of the screen in PelicanYogaland. Everything here is well tagged, so such within-site searches speedily yield “real” results – in this instance, 17 of them)
Madagascar has an astonishing array of geckos.
Some are so superbly camouflaged that most human passers-by fail to see them… as do not a few of the lizards’ predators and prey.
Others are almost unbelievably colourful, flamboyant.
I photographed this post’s gecko in Madagascar’s hot, dry southwest.
I am certain that he or she is one of many species of Day Gecko.
I think that our hero/heroine is an example of Phelsuma mutabilis – the Thicktail Day Gecko.
As will be evident in a future post in this “a shining moment” series, Madagascar’s chameleons have been well served by their musician compatriots.
Not so, alas, the eighth continent’s geckos…or perhaps I’m wrong…”their” songs and tunes could just be too well hidden from most of the world’s awareness – an “affliction” which is true of most things Madagascan.
When did you last hear, see, or read any news coverage of any kind about Madagascar? (bear in mind that Madagascar’s population is larger than Australia’s, and that if you were to sail due west from Australia’s Western “shoulder” – following the Tropic of Capricorn across the Indian Ocean – the next substantial landmass you’d reach would be Madagascar)
So, as ONJ never sang, let’s get lateral.
Today’s first reptile-referencing musical bonus is a slice of 1935 vintage Thomas “Fats” Waller, solo.
Our second selection’s reptile is posthumously present, in an Australian song.
Joe Camilleri enjoyed Top 20 Chart success with Snakeskin Shoes in 1994.
This link will take you to a ”live” and lively treatment from just last year, when Joe and the Black Sorrows performed at the Crossroads Festival in Bonn, Germany.
Our third number’s author is a Nobel Laureate, and the only songster to have won the Literature Prize.
Or, so “they” say.
The Western World ‘s general awareness of the first non-Westerner to have won the Nobel Literature Prize appears to be on a par with the West’s awareness of Madagascar.
India’s Rabindranath Tagore won it in 1913; among the numbers in his substantial songbook are both India and Bangladesh’s national anthems.
He also, unwittingly, substantIally contributed to Sri Lanka’s!
Tagore, however, was many other things besides, and he probably won his Nobel in spite of his songster aspect.
Bob Dylan recorded his snakiest song 37 years before he won his most prestigious “gong”.
Some folks think it is the worst song he ever wrote.
Others fell in love with it, and one of them was the late-great Texan songster, Townes Van Zandt (1944-1997)
Some of us think that his – not Bob’s own – is the definitive version:
You will find the above on Townes Van Zandt’s Roadsongs, an album of “live” performances of songs that Townes did not write. The nifty guitarist is Danny “Ruester” Rowlands.
Even if Townes’s name means nothing to you, you almost certainly have heard at least one of his songs – Pancho and Lefty, perhaps – as delivered by someone more famous.
Discover more here.
Townes, of course, had his own Snake Song: