in a fog

Timing is everything -- even with silly essays.

Three days ago, I drafted the outline of an essay on blood-sucking insects. No, not politicians. Not this time.

My focus was on a completely different group of blood-suckers -- mosquitoes and jejenes (better known to English-speakers by a plethora of names: gnats, black flies, midges; almost almost preceded by some colorful epithet). 

Normally, we have plenty of them here to help balance out the notion that this little strand of tropical beach is paradise. After all, could Eden exist without clouds of flying serpents?

Well, the answer to that rhetorical (and self-serving) question is: apparently, yes.

After I returned from my last sojourn north to Oregon in mid-January, I thought I noticed an absolute dearth of mosquitoes and jejenes. I have been on my patio in the dusk without sighting one of the little vampires. Usually, I need to retreat to the library when the sun slips below the lines of the house.

Not that their disappearance is unusual. In the dozen of years I have lived here, we seem to get a respite from biting insects in January and early February. My theory is that the cooler weather breaks up the reproduction cycle in the insect singles bar. And our nights have been cooler than usual. I thought my theory had been vindicated by semi-scientific observation.

But that is one of the flaws of limiting conclusions to observations. It appears I simply may not have been paying attention.

While writing my "insect-free at last" essay, I heard the distinctive sound of the mosquito fogger truck driving through the neighborhood. Not just once or twice, but three times. That usually means that not only is there mosquito activity, but that dengue is afoot.

Yesterday I was in my doctor's pharmacy and I asked if there has been an increase in dengue here in Barra de Navidad. There has. Along with an increase in the number of the other dreaded virus cases. Some people with both.

We humans are prone to get so focused on some new malady that we forget there are also other health enemies lurking in the tules. Masks and social distancing help to restrain the transmission of the SARS-CoV-2 virus. But neither of those will have any effect on preventing dengue fever. To do that, we need to avoid being bitten by an infected Aedes aegypti mosquito. For me, that means slathering myself with high-concentrations of DEET.

I am always reluctant to write about either form of virus because there is a tendency for us to obsess on avoiding either one. Not that there is anything wrong with being cautious. It is the obsessive part that can be counter-productive.

Now, I know you did not ask me for any advice on either topic. I offer up this reverie for one purpose -- it is information that you can choose to use or disregard in your daily choices.

But, I do have one piece of advice. And it comes straight from my mother.

Enjoy your day today. And learn something new.