As Ed and I hiked back from the terminus of the Robe Canyon Trail, I happened upon a lizardy thing. It was so still, lying in the cold shade. While it was a very warm day for a Washington spring, it was very cold for this little guy. I showed Ed where the brown slinky thing was, motionless.

He was alive, I found, when I picked him up. His little body was cold in my palm. He curled his tail a bit, slowly. Ed said, "Maybe that little girl would like to see him," referring to a girl we'd met, hiking with her family. She had come through the railroad tunnel, but was scared, and had to go back through it on the return trip. The family had stopped to snack perhaps, and wasn't right behind us any more.

"Let's put him somewhere warm. He'll be really thankful for that." I walked out of the shade and put Mr. Newt on an out-of-the-way warm rock. He didn't move much. But at least he wasn't cold. And he wasn't going to be stepped on.

I looked him up and he was a rough-skinned newt. Cool.