This is the circle of life. On hot, dry, dusty Isla Chira in the Nicoya Gulf, a troop of ants carries off an infant gecko as dinner for their brood. If you lie awake at night at the old Albergue that the damas of Chira own, while the steel fan turns and cools you intermittently, you will hear the chirps of these young geckos from the rafters above your bed, and from below the floorboards, and inside the walls. You might say to yourself, "What is one less gecko to the world? Or ten more ants?" But you might not have an answer. In places like this-- the far-out places, the humble places where the hot sun rises over mangroves, clammers, and the fishermen-- nature still has a balance. The crocodiles eat the birds, the birds eat the fish, and every now and then the ants will carry off a gecko. In the mythology of the island, the gecko is a prophet and a martyr; he is Jesus Christ, being brought to God by ants.