silverguide.site –

Up early for once. The moon’s still there, miraculous white ghost in the clear morning sky. If my eyes were better I might glimpse a capsule containing the four remarkable humans who have travelled further from our planet than anyone in history. With this knowledge, seeing the moon hits differently.

I sit on the terrace, taking in the view. For Easter, this Londoner seeks tranquillity by the sea, and the Ventnor Undercliff – the Isle of Wight’s deep south – ticks both boxes. On a clear day you’ll believe you can see France.

Time passes, coffee cools. Then, a flicker of movement. Fast, lithe, slender. I lose it in a mess of leaves, then it darts up on to the base of an olive tree, camouflaged against the gnarly bark – prime basking territory. A wall lizard, taking advantage of the warmest day of the year. Their colouring varies; this one favours olive, the chequerboard completed by muted grey and brown, with two yellow flank stripes warm in the morning sun.

The origin of this well-established population is disputed. Some reckon the lizard’s ancestors were shipwreck survivors; others that they’re simply wild animals at the northernmost end of their range. Perhaps they descended from escapers, or were introduced in the late 19th century, the result of their popularity with collectors. A genetic study suggests their origins are in Italy, right in the middle of their European range.

Whatever, the Undercliff’s microclimate suits their lifestyle. Here they have south-facing terraces and banks, an abundance of scrubby plants, and handy crevices to dive into when it gets too hot or danger approaches.

But the dart for cover isn’t always its natural reaction, and this one is bold. It curtails its basking activities and dashes straight towards me, coming so close that for a moment I think it’s going to climb into my lap. But it stops by my side, unafraid of my presence just inches away. It seems to be waiting for something. I could swear it was indignant.

Realisation dawns. I’m in its way. I stand up with a muttered apology, it scampers past – pitter-patter – without acknowledgment, and we both get on with our day.

• Under the Changing Skies: The Best of the Guardian’s Country Diary, 2018-2024, is available now at guardianbookshop.com