Hunting

I went hunting last night. Yes. Hunting. If you think about things, it was inevitable. I’m in Texas…cowboy boots, trucks, gun racks. It was only a matter of time before I would join in and be a part of the culture of the state I reside in.  Now don’t you worry, I haven’t become one of those trigger-happy hunters who kills everything that moves. No, I wasn’t hunting for the joy of it; I was hunting with a purpose: to kill this animal before it killed me. What deadly animal was this, you ask? …A mosquito.

Laugh if you will, but you probably know the feeling all too well: the feeling that comes when you are all cozy in bed, you’re eyes are just drifting shut, and then you hear it; that faint but distinct hum of the mosquito. And, in the quiet blanket of night, if there is one mosquito, there may as well be a hundred.

If you are wondering what about this experience warrants a post, especially since I am from Manitoba where mosquitoes are so abundant that we joke about them being our national bird, the answer is not much. The only thing that made this mosquito any different from the ones I have seen all my life is that it is a Texan mosquito. But I do have a tidbit of information for you that I heard first from my dear mother. Just like in Manitoba, there is West Nile Virus in Texas, but there aren’t very many mosquitoes. Good, right? …Wrong. The fewer mosquitoes there are, the more concentrated the virus becomes and the more deadly it is. So for all of you who are not so fond of the overabundance of mosquitoes in your part of the world, there is a bright side to life with migs. 

Getting back to the mosquito in my room, though I could hear it, I was never able to sight it, so I went to hang out in the kitchen for a while, giving it a chance to move out before I went to bed. Since I didn't see or hear it when I went back to my room, so I assumed it had left me in peace. But this morning, what woke me was not my alarm but a faint humming in my ear...