Tiny Terrors

Betsey: Last Sunday after church and -- I admit it -- blueberry pancakes, we took our dog for a long (for her) walk. The air was cool and damp, the trees were tossing in the wind. It felt bracing and energizing, like that proverbial hint of fall and a wonderful change from what we’ve been enduring, a grim plod of muggy 90-degree days with screaming cicadas and flotillas of devouring mosquitoes that basically ruin summer. Last night we were at Amanda and Stu’s and tried to eat out on their deck and were chased indoors, and so the terrorists have won. As I mentioned to you, I think I have mosquito allergies so I’m covered with welts and scabs where I’ve scratched. Delightful.

Then at night, when the AC is on, our bedroom gets really stuffy and I toss and turn and itch and kick off covers and even the dog says, “Forget this!” and escapes downstairs. So we try to turn off the air from time to time to bring that good fresh air in -- but it’s just been so warm. And I think it’s affecting my mood and outlook more than I realize.

"I'm covered with welts and scabs where I've scratched. Delightful."

I once had a musician friend who said she thought creative people actually preferred “bad” weather. I think there’s something to that. Maybe not bad weather per se, but I realize when it gets cold, I get happy. What about you? Do you find yourself being affected by the weather?

Jane: First of all, I know what you mean about the mosquitoes. We took our two dogs to the off-leash dog park Saturday morning, and although I was slathered in Skin-So-Soft, we ended up trudging through these vast swarms of skeeters, slapping ourselves silly in a futile attempt to keep them from feasting on every known body part! You can tell it's really bad when Rich, who usually isn't bothered by mosquitoes (I can't figure this out, because they just love me) cries uncle. We finally turned tail and left in defeat. Days later I'm still discovering angry welts from that trek . . . on my butt, the backs of my arms, my thighs. All the juicy spots!

Now to answer your question, yes, I'm affected by the weather -- or more accurately, by the sunshine. Every long gray winter, I struggle with S.A.D. (seasonal affective disorder) and I'm always tempted to buy one of those “happy lights” they sell at Costco.

But I can't say I prefer bad weather; I prefer variety. Too many bright days in a row, and I yearn for the moodiness of a cloudy, rainy day (nothing like the rhythm of rain to read by). Too many dreary days in a row, and I just about go batty craving some sun.

"Days later I'm still discovering angry welts from that trek . . . on all the juicy spots!"

Oh, and I can do without high humidity. It turns me into a sweaty, crabby mess.

Betsey: You’re right about variety. I think that’s more it than “bad” weather. And I’m glad I’m not the only one who gets bitten on, well, “shaded” spots. And I still remember an old cartoon that ran in one of the first issues of Partnership magazine, the former CTI publication for ministry wives. It showed a couple watching as their kid fled marauding mosquitoes, and the dad said, “Uh-oh. Get ready for the question, ‘Why did God invent mosquitoes?’"

Jane: I asked that question myself when we were at the dog park -- loudly, and often.

Betsey: So not to “theologize” everything, but is there such a thing as “bad” creation? Philip Yancey wrote something on this years ago. As I recall, he was talking about the dangerous giardia parasite lurking in the waters of crystalline Colorado streams and he explored the idea of “fallen creation” -- things in nature that destroy and hurt and have no visible benefit. I wonder if this summer’s tiny terrorists would fall into that category. I know they are eaten by, among other creatures, bats and dragonflies (which I’m seeing more of) . . . but there are just so MANY of them. (Annie Dillard has an interesting reflection on nature’s “mindless fecundity” in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.)

"What about the idea of 'fallen creation' -- things in nature that destroy and hurt and have no visible benefit?"

Or you think about truly miserable weather, like the 100-degree-plus heat they’ve seen in the Great Plains this summer. Or disasters. Or anything else in creation that doesn’t seem to have an upside. How to account for some of this?

Jane: Betsey, although my recent trip to Alaska renewed my awe for creation's design, as far as these ferocious mosquitoes go . . . sometimes nature seems so random, even nasty!

Betsey: Well, I’ll ponder this while safely sequestered indoors, dreaming of blustery October skies, beef stew and a world where a woman has the right to bare arms without fear of airborne enemies using your skin as a landing strip. Slap!