My spouse is bedeviled by a similar bug: the buffalo gnat. Looking very much like the eye gnat, these pests are, however, very different… they bite! One might wonder how a little bug like this acquired the very large adjective “buffalo.” It seems that they were imported to Virginia from the eastern end of Lake Erie in 1894… no, that’s a joke. How about: they once were the main pest of the bison… no, that’s another joke. Really, the buffalo gnat gets its name from its little humped back—it’s like a miniature-winged buffalo! This gnasty gnat is related to the notorious black flies of the northern states, and like the notorious black fly, they have a vicious bite. They draw blood. They create itchy lumps on my spouse’s forehead and neck that bug her for days.
Why does one type of gnat choose me and another type go after her? I’m guessing it has something to do with the different smells we radiate. I’ll refrain from suggesting which one of us smells worse (or better, to the gnats) than the other. Mosquitoes go after her far more voraciously than me. Is it chemical or karma?
Finally comes the deer fly. It’s the size of a house fly, but rather than just tickle your neck, it bites, and it hurts! A deer fly will buzz wildly around your head, circling you at something in the vicinity of 90 mph. You might catch a fleeting glimpse of it now and then, but it’s moving far faster than any well-aimed swat could intercept. It circles and circles, wearing you down, and then lands on neck or ear and nips you.
The wound will seep blood, because deer fly spit has an anticoagulant in it. They and their later-summer cousin the horse fly can cause a cow or goat to become anemic, if they get many bites. My bug book tells me that deer flies are attracted to dark, moving shapes. So I guess I’m supposed to wear white and stand still, when one is on the prowl? Sorry.
It may sound like I’m complaining about these fly pests, when I list and describe their disagreeable habits—and I am, a bit, I guess. But I also have been around enough to know that every habitat has its pests—and our corner of the woods is less pestilent than many. I'm thankful for that.
Instead of complaining, I hope I’m really just trying to describe some of the challenging and interesting critters we have around here. I believe it helps me to put attention to and study these creatures, in order to learn what I can about their lives and habits and to get along with them. For one thing, this process shows me that their purpose in life is not solely to bedevil me, and that they may even have some beneficial qualities. That said, I can’t wait until fly season is over.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment