As I have mentioned, I've been avoiding longer walks and hikes due to the fact that deer flies and mosquitoes are thick right now, and are amongst my least favourite things. Well, last evening, I'd had enough of staying indoors and decided to head out across the fields, to the river to find that elusive stream that I had spied in the spring.
I set out in the field at a rather fast clip because I didn't have much time and the bugs were bad...or so I thought. There was a steady flow of deer flies around my head - maybe 5 - 8 at the most. Not a huge deal. Totally manageable. When I felt like leaving them behind, I broke into a faster run, brought up the breeze, and they were gone. As soon as I stopped, they seemed to multiply, brought on by my activity and heavy breathing. I like running, and I do it almost everyday. Just not, you know, in jeans and heavy hiking boots.
Still, they weren't too bad.
On I went to the river.
Crossing was a bit of an issue, and I had to venture father upstream to find a narrow spot. I crossed at the top of the falls with my shoes tied around my neck and my socks stuffed in my pocket.
Once across the deer flies found me again, and this time they had brought all their friends. I was starting to get just a bit nervous about my situation.
I followed the dry creek bed up through the forest where the mosquitoes found me. OH FANTASTIC.
I broke into a run again, pausing every so often and snapping all the photos I could, knowing that this would be the last I saw of this place until the fall.
I stumbled up the the upper field, snapped a few shots, down to the creek bed, raccoon print, oh yay, more forest, bugs, deeper pool, bugs, rocks, this must have been pretty in spring, bugs, bugs, no more thinking, just running.
Mosquitoes and deer flies are swarming now. I'm back at the river ripping off my socks and shoes. Forcing myself to slow down and calmly cross so that I don't slip and smash up on the rocks. I felt like I was crossing blind. I was in a BUG RAGE.
At this point, there was no more time for pictures, the camera was to be used a weapon only.
I ran through the thick blackberry canes, the spines ripping at my sweat heavy jeans. I startled a white tailed deer. No time to admire. I kept running.
I came out of that field running as if Satan himself had risen from the depths and was chasing me across the sweeping grasses. I hit the road and briefly considered laying down.
I was absolutely dripping with sweat. Slick. Disgusting. Spent.
The jury is still out on whether this little adventure was worth the bug rage and copious amounts of cortisone I used when safely ensconced in my blissfully bug-free washroom. I don't suppose I'll be returning to the scene of the crime anytime soon, but I do look forward to a more leisurely stroll come late August.
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| Bug rage! |
We've been busy outside and in.
The days of exploring are over for now, with the onset of bug season. The mosquitoes are fierce today.
I will have garden stories coming up soon.
Hope you had a fantastic long weekend!
We haven't been going outside much these days. There are these terrible swarming insects floating near the house in clouds. They are infuriating. Every time I inhale I seem to find one in my teeth.
As prolific as they are, these bugs aren't biting - just swarming. I don't know what they are, though. I don't remember them from last year. They're small - but bigger than a blackfly. Smaller than a mosquito. A mosquito baby? Who knows.
I don't like bugs. They irritate and they frustrate. They needle and annoy and itch.
Deerflies top my list for plain awfulness when it comes to biting insects. One can almost imagine that they have a thought process from the way they stalk a person. Last summer, out running, I was chased by a literal cloud of deerflies when I dared to jaunt down a more heavily forested road. Mistake. I haven't run that fast since.
Blackflies are pretty terrible, but are generally short lived. After a few hot, sunny days, they are typically gone.
Mosquitoes I find tolerable. I do know, however, that in more heavily forested areas they can be unbelievably thick. I remember a camping trip I took in Algonquin park many years ago. The mosquitoes made a grey haze in the forest. I cold swipe my open fist through the air and grab them. It was unreal.
I often think of pioneers or voyagers and explorers when I complain about bugs. I can't imagine navigating the Canadian wilderness in the spring and summer in the thick woods with their onslaught of biting insects. It must have been enough to drive a person mad.
I think we need the biting insects, though. I'm not talking about in the ecological sense (although that's true as well). Bugs keep us real. If there wasn't the worry of bugs, the threat of being bothered or bitten or getting itchy, we might be lulled into thinking we live in some sort of paradise. Last summer I was enjoying lunch on the deck overlooking the lake. The sun as shining; the lake sparkling. It was a perfect day. And then it got me. Something bit my ankle and my foot and lower leg swelled and throbbed for the rest of the day.
Nothing is ever perfect. The bugs just want us to remember that.
