We’ve had some steamy days in the desert. The monsoon season is coming to an end, but the humidity in the air leaves me wondering if Mother Nature is aware of that. I’m pretty sure the mosquitoes don’t care! They love it.
Over the weekend, we treated our yard for the pesky blood-sucking insects. It’s something I never expected to have to do when we moved to the desert. We’ve been here for almost four years and this is the first time we’ve resorted to seeking out a solution … and begging for the return of desert dry heat to eliminate the pests.
I’d forgotten how irritating the little buggers are. I’d forgotten how happy I was to leave the bug-infested, steam-filled Mid-Atlantic. As Greg headed back to the DC-area for a week, we discussed bug spray. Would he need it? The recent glut of mosquitoes at home reminded us of the memories and concerns about bite-covered ankles.
As I join him for a few days, I, too, am concerned. I’m taking Enzo, so we will be eating outside. Will we be eaten alive? It brings back the relief of moving to the desert where mosquitoes are rare, where flies are minimal, where forecasters don’t have to calculate a heat index based on the relative humidity. I am so grateful for my new home.
I’m not looking forward to feeling the humidity, hearing the loud buzz of bugs in the trees that surround our hotel, and swatting at biting insects. I am grateful to be reminded of one of the reasons we moved to the west. There is joy in experiencing your own validation of a major decision.
There’s a whole world out there just waiting to be explored. Bugs are a reality of our world, but we do what we can to avoid them!
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