Ah, yes, being in the country is a source of delight. However, there’s one aspect that isn’t a source of delight. In fact, I see no reason for its creation. Nada! The creek is beckoning to me; it needs a little clearing and tender care, and the large brown fallen leaves have to be plucked from the beautiful daffodils that have begun to bloom their bright yellow color, soggy pieces of wood with their bark pulling away are sinking into the very moist ground and need to be lifted and collected, and there are those weeds. . . . I want to do this and I want to do that, but those annoying tiny flies feel they own the creek with its clear water and simple happy sound. Those flies are very good at protecting what they think is theirs. These tiny things go right for the eyes or they hover around the face – always teasing. They get into a hat, and while I’m busy brushing off the hat, they’re busy biting me.
And now bitten and itching I wait my turn to enjoy the land. I’ve tried sneaking out in the early morning before breakfast hoping they’re taking a break. And I’ve tried not using any lotions on my body. I’ve even talked to the energy that they are, feeling that we could connect and they would understand that I have to be out there, too, unhampered by their company. Nah! Nothing works so far. Isn’t it absurd to be detained by a speck-sized something having no real power other that it bites (leaving no serious threat to its victim) and flash flies? There has to be away to get around them. There’s always a way.