November 29, 2021
I am the shortest-lived terrestrial vertebrate, destined not to outlast a single rainy season. Yes, I am a chameleon living in the rainforests of Madagascar.
When the first rays of sunlight pierced through the forest canopy, I mustered all my strength to break through the eggshell and emerged into this vibrant world. At birth, I was only half the size of a matchstick, my pinkish skin still moist with egg fluid. Yet the moment I hatched, the egg cells dormant within me had already begun to develop—this meant I had only four short months left.
As an orphan, I had to face this perilous world alone. Fortunately, the rainforest granted me exceptional survival skills: my tongue could shoot out at lightning speed, twice the length of my body, allowing me to catch hundreds of fruit flies each day for sustenance. With every prey I swallowed, I could feel my body growing slowly but steadily.
December 15, 2021
In just two weeks, my size had doubled since birth. Faint patterns began to emerge on my emerald-green skin, helping me blend better into the ferns. But the joy of growth was always accompanied by danger—every corner of the rainforest hid deadly threats.
Last night, as I slept, I suddenly felt an unusual tremor on the branch. A tree snake was slithering toward me, its tongue flicking. At the critical moment, I leaped to the ground. The damp moss cushioned my fall, but the world below was just as treacherous. In the darkness, frogs' tympanic membranes reflected a cold glow, and the scuttling legs of centipedes rustled. I held my breath until the first light of dawn dispelled the darkness.
March 1, 2022
A stunning transformation was taking place within me. My once-monotone skin began to shimmer with hues of jade, cobalt, and amber—these dazzling colors were both a sign of maturity and a warning of my dwindling time. Through my semi-transparent belly, I could clearly see eight fully developed eggs pulsating.
Time was running out. I had to drag my egg sac, which accounted for a third of my body weight, in search of a mate. Choosing a conspicuous branch was crucial, but this often meant engaging in a silent battle with other females. We cautiously maintained a safe distance—none of us dared to risk our precious eggs.
The males' battles below were far more brutal. Claws tore open wounds, and tails thudded against flesh. Only the strongest victor would earn mating rights, while the losers would likely meet their end. I waited quietly, and when the final victor displayed his most vibrant courtship colors to me, I knew the continuation of our species was about to be fulfilled.
After mating, our parting was eternal. Now, I had to drag my heavy body back to the dangerous forest floor to find a nesting site. My sluggish movements soon caught the attention of a hog-nosed snake. I contorted my body into the shape of a fallen leaf, swaying gently with the breeze. Every inch of movement felt like agony, but fortunately, the two-meter-long predator eventually lost interest.
Before exhausting my last ounce of strength, I finally found the ideal nesting site: sunlight could penetrate the leaf litter to warm the soil, and tangled roots formed a natural barrier. The digging process was painful and slow, but when the eight pearl-like eggs were safely buried, an unprecedented peace enveloped me.
In the final moments of my life, my skin began shifting colors uncontrollably. In those mottled hues, I seemed to see again the breathtaking morning dew at hatching, the precise strikes during hunts, and the heart-stopping escapes from danger. When the dry season arrived in May, our kind would collectively meet our end, but these eggs buried deep in the rainy season held the promise of new life seven months later.
My eyes gradually lost focus, but my pupils still reflected the starlight filtering through the canopy. Before eternal darkness fell, I contracted my pupils one last time, forever imprinting the rainforest's kaleidoscope of colors in my gaze.