A Rite of Spring

This morning while I walked with Maggie across the road in Mary's Woods, another Rite of Spring slammed me hard as I approached the lower section of the preserve. I walked right into my first seasonal cloud of black flies. And yes, this years crew is as numb as all the others who have passed in my lifetime. It only took a second or two for three of the dumb little bastids to get caught behind my glasses. Frantic  and with no where to go they beat themselves silly before I was able to remove my glasses and set them free. 

Spring has finally set up shop as it always does. I don't know why the cycle surprises me each year. I always seem a little taken aback when confronted with the first onslaught of Black Flies. 

Unlike mosquitoes, I cannot ignore black flies. Their stupidity and anarchist ways make them the ultimate pest. I might be able and do ignore their bites, I cannot escape their stupidity. Flying into my ears, mouth, nose, and becoming trapped behind my glasses drive me crazy. Thankfully their season is brief. 

I look forward to all of Nature's annual traditions, including black flies. They are an irritating comfort to me even as I cuss and fume when they find their ways into parts of my body usually left undisturbed. They remind me that the Cycle of Life will always carry on with or without my permission. 

Can't wait now for Deer Fly season. 

Keep it tween the Ditches .........................................

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I found a black fly song by Randy Spencer. It has a catchy title, "Black Flies" and was written while Randy was in Grand Lake Stream, Maine back in 1980.