Meet the Monitor Lizard

  When you picture a dinosaur descendant, you probably don’t imagine a lizard sun-baking on an Australian rock. Yet the 80-plus species of monitor lizard—known locally as goannas—are exactly that: survivors of a lineage that stretches back to the Miocene epoch . From the 20 cm short-tailed monitor to the 3 m Komodo dragon, these reptiles combine ancient hardware with modern attitude.

Built for Business

  Every inch of a monitor is engineered for predation. A long, forked tongue samples the air like a snake’s, delivering scent particles to the Jacobson’s organ so the lizard can ”smell in stereo” . Sharp, recurved teeth and powerful neck muscles tear through hide and shell, while recently discovered osteoderms—tiny chain-mail plates beneath the skin—act as built-in armor against feisty prey. The tail doubles as rudder, whip, or tripod: aquatic species steer with it, arboreal species anchor with it, and ground-dwellers stand upright on it for a better view, looking like miniature T. rexes surveying their domain .

Dinner is Everything  

  Monitors are the ultimate opportunists. Hatchlings gorge on insects; adults graduate to birds, eggs, fish, frogs, snakes, carrion—even venomous cane toads (some Australian species have evolved partial resistance). Arboreal specialists such as the spotted tree monitor raid nests high in the canopy, while the massive crocodile monitor of New Guinea can bring down possums and even small wallabies . By cleaning up carcasses and controlling rodent numbers, monitors double as ecosystem janitors and farmers’ allies.

Brains, Not Just Brawn

  Field experiments show that Gould’s goanna can count up to six, helping them track the exact number of eggs they’ve hidden in a communal termite-mound nest . Mothers even “book” the incubator in advance: they rip open a mound, lay up to 20 eggs, and rely on resident termites to reseal the breach, creating a climate-controlled nursery that stays 30 °C and 90 % humidity for the next 8–9 months.

Seasonal Superheroes

  In northern Australia, the switch from baking dry season to monsoonal deluge flips a behavioral switch. During the wet, yellow-spotted monitors trek 300 m a night, gorging on the frog and invertebrate boom; in the dry they bunker in deep burrows that they excavate themselves. These tunnels later become refuges for snakes, mammals, and even plants, turning the lizards into underground architects that reshape whole landscapes .

Living Safely Alongside Giants  

  Despite Hollywood hype, monitor lizards are shy. A wild goanna’s first response to a human is flight; bites occur only when the animal is cornered or hand-fed (so don’t). If you meet one on a trail, stand still, enjoy the dinosaur moment, and let it lumber past. Your admiration—and a respectful distance—will keep both of you safe.

  From city fringes to the heart of the Red Centre, monitor lizards patrol ecosystems we barely notice. Protect their habitat, resist the urge to feed them, and you’ll help ensure these living legends continue their 20-million-year watch.