dudemanflab's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chance Encounter with the Mosquito Summertime has a special deal with mosquitoes, a contract with nearly illimitable concessions. From the marshes, from rot water and stale pools, they grow, and only the forest knows how many hours elapse before they're able to whirligig past a human ear. At moments of encounter, one imagines their wings to have small feathers, or their great expanding bodies to be covered in a shaggy type of insect fur. Tonight as I sat on the porch talking to a friend, I couldn't help feeling uneasy, knowing these creatures were roaming and ranging upon the high hour of their appetites. I regarded the small bands of black flies with indifference, they so jittery and sensitive to the wave of a hand. I knew my true enemy was stealthier and would amble from the eaves given the chance. This state of mind prepared me for the brush of acquaintance several moments later, as he lighted behind my right elbow, knowing, as he must, the challenge of landing without signaling his prey by the casual brush of a hair, the accidental sliding down the epidermis. My eyes held him in gaze as his shoulders hunched forward for that forward plunge of mouth, when-- SLAP!-- I made small work of his endeavor. The twist of my tale is this: after the swat, I toss my lover and my greatest foe into the nearest web, to watch a large-bellied spider wrap him in the downiest comfort he can provide. 8:50 p.m. - June 08, 2008 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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