As I was examining lizard tracks recently on a dusty fire road in Malibu Creek State Park, I noticed something different about the markings on the ground.

Kneeling down, I could see the long spindly toes and claw marks that made up the lizard's feet, but I was stopped short by a large drag mark next to the tail. I wondered if the lizard had caught something and was carrying it.

Looking more closely, the mark seemed not to be something outside of the lizard but rather part of the lizard's body. I had seen body prints of lizards before, when they had been resting,buthereth e body showed for the length of the trail while the liz- ard was moving. Was this just a fat lizard?

Having no answer, I stood up and kept walking.

A little while later, I came upon similar tracks, although made by a different lizard. These, too, showed a body drag. Throughout the day I saw many other lizard tracks, some with body prints and some without. By the end of my walk, I began to put the individual facts together, building a possible story.

It was spring; not all the lizards were leaving body tracks. Was I seeing the story of a female lizard? Was her body heavy with eggs and therefore dragging?

Time to dance

A week later I received another bit o f information to help fill in the story. While sitting quietly on a bridge in the middle of Malibu Creek State Park, I watched two western fence lizards, also referred to as blue bellies (Sceloporus occidentalis), in some elaborate dance.

One lizard would scurry behind the other. The one chasing was puffed up, sides distended, and moving on stiff legs. I remembered the first time I had seen this display; it was a year ago spring. At first I wondered if it was a territorial display of one male to another, but the two lizards stayed very close together, which has not been the case when I have watched the intruder being chased off.

Although I conjectured that this behavior was a mating ritual between male and female, the only way for me to be sure would be to pick the animals up and look at the coloration and anatomy on their undersides. Fence lizards are gray to brown to black above while the sides of their bellies are colored bright blue. The rear of their legs is yellow/orange. The male also has a blue throat patch, while the females do not. The blue coloring in the females is less vivid or missing entirely.

I didn't disturb these lizards to test my theory. I quietly sat, and they continued their dance, until two bikers came by and the lizards dashed into the brush, leaving me with more facts and an ever-lengthening lizard story.

Curious to know more about one of our most common reptiles, I found information to support my tale.

March to June marks the breeding season for the western fence lizards in California.

To attract the females or deter competing males, a male will inflate his abdomen, bob his head and arch his back in order to better display his colors.

Once the female is courted, the male will grasp the female by the neck in his jaws and insert his hemipenes to fertilize the female.

Often the female will mate with more than one male to ensure genetic diversity.

Clutches of three to 17 eggs are laid from April through July in a shallow nest the female has excavated from damp soil. Once the eggs are laid she departs, never having contact with her offspring.

The eggs begin to hatch midsummer, and the young are left to start the cycle again.

I may never know if the lizard tracks I saw were those of a pregnant female. But because I chose to look beyond mere facts and joined fragmented bits of information, I was gifted with a story.

As Pueblo poet Simon Ortiz says, "In continuance of the stories and songs—the earth shall continue."

Meghan Walla-Murphy can be reached at the following e-mail: mwallamurphy@yahoo.com.