The rumor is that Irene brought up a whole new slew of mosquito, a tougher, more durable, more tenacious breed. I don’t know if this is true, but my 2 hour walk around 6 last night was teeming with skeeters. It had been a full day of sweaty work, so I’d done a quick wash off of grass and dirt before applying a coat of Skin So Soft which has proven to be a successful barrier against most insects. Not true last night. They swarmed like zeros honing in on Pearl Harbor. SLAP! SMASH! BLAM! CRUNCH! SPLAT! Take that you needle nosed, thread legged, buzzy-buzzy, blood sucking, hovering horde of EVIL!! And they smoosh so easily. A tangled heap of wreckage in amongst the arm hair. I kept thinking of the old boy scout ploy to wait until the mosquito has inserted its hypodermic and then you clench your fist and forearm thus trapping them with their suck pump engaged until they fill so full of your blood that they explode. I never actually tried or witnessed this, but the idea of it brings out the bloodlust in me. It’s like one’s own mini Tarentino movie. But I didn’t have the patience last night. Actually, I did. The mosquitos didn’t discourage me or turn me back; I just took them in stride and walked on, by turns taking in the scenery and sounds, birdsong, or reading the book I was carrying. I wonder if getting all pent up about insects sets off an aroma or vibration that actually attracts them? Hmmm.
It is so stunningly beautiful here. The green has embraced everything so thoroughly that I can’t imagine winter having been here. The long months of grey, beige, and brown help you appreciate the green so much more.
One less Canada goose gosling, but they too are taking nature’s whims in stride.
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