It seems I’m becoming increasingly difficult to please.
A few weeks ago, I was grumbling about the cold, wet weather and lamenting the fact that spring had apparently forgotten to show up. I wanted sunshine, warmth, and the chance to spend some time outdoors.
Well, the weather finally cooperated.
And then I got ticked.
Literally.
After enjoying a day on the golf course (my golf skills were lacking but my teammates so much fun) I arrived home only to discover a tick firmly attached to me. It was the first tick I’ve ever found on my person.
I squealed.
Now, I wouldn’t generally describe myself as squeamish when it comes to insects, but finding something embedded in your skin tends to change your perspective rather quickly. My son was an arborist so I’m well aware of the risks ticks pose and how important proper removal is. The little hitchhiker was discovered early and removed correctly.
Still, it got me thinking.
I spent a great deal of my childhood wandering through woods, fields, and every patch of nature I could find. Yet I don’t remember ticks ever being a concern. Making sure you were home before dark, that was the concern. I also don’t remember earwigs appearing in every possible crack and crevice, and the Asian lady beetles that now invade homes certainly weren’t on the guest list.
It seems every few years we acquire a new insect to complain about.
This summer, however, none of them can compete with our long-time nemesis: the mighty black fly.
I remember black flies from childhood, but not like this.
Apparently, it’s not just my imagination. Scientists say a combination of weather conditions created the perfect environment for black flies to emerge all at once rather than gradually over several weeks. The result has been what can only be described as aerial assault squads descending upon anyone brave enough to step outside.
Gardens are being neglected. Evening walks have become strategic military operations. Backyard barbecues resemble frantic interpretive dance performances as people swat, wave, and retreat indoors.
For now, the black flies have won.
I genuinely feel sorry for some of the early tourists who have arrived hoping to experience our beautiful hiking trails, waterfalls, and scenic vistas. More than one visitor has told me that while the landscapes were stunning, their most vivid memory will be sprinting back to the car while being pursued by a cloud of hungry black flies.
The good news, if you’re searching for a silver lining, is that black flies do play an important role in the ecosystem. They provide food for birds, fish, and other wildlife, and their population tends to operate in cycles. In other words, relief is coming.
Just in time for mosquito season.
While we’re discussing things that have me feeling both ticked and bugged, I’d like to address another growing annoyance I’ve noticed during my early morning walks.
Why are people throwing away filled dog waste bags along public trails?
I truly do not understand the logic.
You took the time to pick up after your pet. You used a bag. You did the responsible thing. Then, somewhere along the way, you apparently decided the next step was to toss that plastic bag into the woods or alongside the trail.
Why?
Even bags marketed as biodegradable take months to break down. In the meantime, everyone else gets to enjoy the sight of little colourful parcels decorating our natural spaces.
Please stop.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: no one loves your pet as much as you do. With that love comes responsibility. If you’re going to clean up after your animal, and I expect you to, finish the job and dispose of the waste properly.
We have enough bugs to deal with this summer.
Let’s not add litter to the list.