I sat there counting the mosquito bites on my legs. A reminder of my weekend. It kept distracting me from my computer screen. I thought about a conversation I'd had with Mr. C. a few years ago while sitting down by the lake "Was that a mosquito?!" he asked as he looked around into the air. "I don't know, I didn't see it." I responded. "We usually don't have mosquitos here." I said. "They carry West Nile Virus you know." he said. "Yes I know." I really didn't think there were any mosquitos out. "I don't think we have to worry about it tonight." I said. "I think we should go in." he said, and with that, he got up and made his way back up the hill.
I'd rub my hand back and forth on my lower leg until I'd discover another one. Then I'd scratch it until it became a white bump surrounded by pink. It felt good to scratch, and the mosquito bites responded to my touch. What good is a mosquito bite if you can't scratch it? I thought as I scratched... There must have been a mosquito under every leaf I thought. Little soft grey things that weighed nothing. I could easily destroy them with one swipe of my massive hand, but it was hard to keep up with all of them collectively.
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Here is a another picture I took today of the cedar forest. I didn't notice any mosquitoes.
2 comments:
That looks like a nice forest to go hiking through. . . .or to sit down and read a book!
It was cool in there by that stream, and it was hot if you got out of that shade.
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