Sharp of scute and golden-eyed, a gang of small alligators occupied a palm island off to the side of the river.  Like lengths of bright leather, they belted the dried-down mud.

We wedged our kayaks among some tree roots downriver, respectfully distant. We wanted to be with them for awhile, but we did not want to be rushed by their mama.

As the foot-long gators grew used to our presence, they resumed their morning, sliding and diving and leaping through air into river, pursuing insect, frog or fish.  They were limber and swift, and seemed to divide their attention between watching for prey, and trying hard not to be prey.  What might eat a baby alligator? A heron? A red-shouldered hawk? Most likely, a larger alligator.

As adults, should they survive, they will become mud-heavy, able to thrash and charge but only short distances, and never so free of gravity.

As I watched them, I noticed how they acted as a kind of unit, bound together for purposes of survival.  Each angled, sharp-profiled head contributed a slightly different view of the swamp and those who might be stalking them.  They hadn’t been long out of the nest, a hot mound of swamp debris constructed and guarded by their mother.  Perhaps they held a cell memory of the 65 days they incubated side by side in their individual eggs.

I studied the littlest, dirtiest, greyest gator, perhaps the runt, through my binoculars. All of a sudden, she yawned.  Two halves of tiny gator jaw widened to their fullest extension, bound at the joint, then silently clapped shut: a baby gator yawn. Her eyes began to droop, ever, ever so slowly, as if she knew she should not sleep, but simply must.  As if she knew she could be the next one predated, on account of her size, but her long infant gator jaw had become simply too heavy to hold in the air.  Down drifted her head to the mud, over minutes of time, until her body lay flat, tooth to tail, against the swamp. A powerful well of love opened in my heart.  She slept, and I watched, as we have all watched infants sleep, whether human child, kitten, puppy…..or alligator.

Oh dear friends, we must love the youngest of all species fiercely, if Earth is to continue.

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