When it Rained Lizards in Guanajuato: A Traveler's Story About Mexico

It's almost rainy season here in Guanajuato. You know it's coming when the days start heating up. The hottest days of the year are in April and May. The sky is crystal blue, birds are chasing one another in their yearly courtship rituals, everyone is frolicking, love is in the air, and lizards rain from the trees.

The wife and I were hiking to the post office downtown. Inches before we passed a particular point on the street called Pastita where the trees coming up from the city's riverbed are the densest, it rained lizards. We heard plopping sounds. Right in front of my wife, who did not become hysterical like her girlie-man husband, lizards were falling from the branches of the tree above our heads. Had we passed under this tree just a second before; they would have landed on my wife's head, or even worse, on mine.

Now, I can honestly say that this is not something we saw, ever, in the States. Nothing, I tell you, even came close to having lizards rain from the heavens almost on our heads. We once had our upstairs neighbor's toilet overflow, causing nasty water to rain down on us through the porous ceiling, but nothing live with legs and flickering tongues ever rained down on us.

Why lizards decided to come raining almost on top of our heads I cannot say. Even though they fell a goodly distance to the cobblestone sidewalks and made a deathly plopping sound when they hit, they were unfazed. In fact, one of them shot off in a slight panic up the stone wall that keeps you from toppling into the river (but does not prevent the locals from throwing everything from car tires to mannequins into the river). A Mexican guy was sitting on the wall. I guess the lizard thought the guy's black pants were a safe place to hide.

To say the Mexican guy didn't like this chain of events would be putting it mildly. To say he jumped up would be putting it milder still. He levitated from the wall, not liking at all the fact that this arboreal reptile had sought refuge under his black-clad nalgas. After a very quick run-through of the Macarena at the speed of sound, he deemed the thing had not taken up residence somewhere it wasn't welcome.

I did not know that lizards lived in trees nor did I know something else of a more serious nature does as well-scorpions.

Apparently, both of these frightening creatures take to the trees to catch prey and maybe even to breed (two of the lizards seemed not to have had eating in mind when they fell to the earth). Our landlady claims this, anyway.

Lizards falling from the heavens? Ok. I can live with that.

Scorpions?

We shall see. We shall see!