This one's for you, Vince. Or perhaps from you?
My mother rushed in from the garden, where she'd been picking flowers for tomorrow's lunch table: Chameleon! Chameleon!
And we all rushed back out to look. There s/he was, a vertical party, pressed against a dahlia stalk.
I am afraid we caused some nervousness, as the chameleon took off, slinging its rainbowed self between stalks.
A good omen, we have decided, at the beginning of this new year.