Dawdling with a Skink

Well, I went outside to work on my novel yesterday. And you know what? There’s too much going on out there! A lizard, known as a skink, slipped around the corner of the wall and started looking at me. Taking that to mean, hi, I had to stop what I was doing to pay him some attention. He allowed me to come so close, I was astounded. With each shift closer (I’m sitting on the ground at this point and he’s on the wall) I expected him to sprint away. But he didn’t. He just posed. And so after a little while and lots of photos, I thanked him and went back to my chair to resume writing.
Ten minutes passed, before I caught movement in the corner of my vision. I turned my head and there he came, sauntering across the patio, not sprinting, not break-neck speed, not avoiding me, but swaggering straight up to me, stopping within three inches of my toes. I mean, this was giggle stuff. I later did some sleuthing. This is a five-lined skink but from there the puzzle gets confusing. This skink was about eight inches long including that gorgeous tail. But only juveniles are said to have that brilliant blue tail. With a flex of a muscle they are able to release a section of tail to free themselves from a predator and save their life. Males have the brighter orange head which is an indicator of sexual maturity. His legs were a beautiful pale pink underneath the gray pattern. Nesting occurs in April and May with broods hatching June to August. I take that to mean there shouldn’t be any juveniles hanging around, right?

So now, where does that leave us? With a handsome salmon-headed skink still carrying a bright blue juvenile tail who was attracted to my toes? He was so cute. And lucky me, he's my neighbor.