Just sitting here covered in mosquito bites with wet hair (sweat hair) drying, acutely aware of just how much my air conditioning is killing the planet but unwilling to bump it lower than 74 degrees.
Holden and I are both covered in mosquito bites. I catch him sitting there with a puzzled look on his face, scratching the little red bumps on his legs, wondering why on earth such an annoying sensation would be happening and not going away. You got my blood, kid. Sorry.
In addition to the ones on my legs and arms, I’ve got three of them on my back. My back! The small part, where the curve starts. I haven’t rolled around shirtless in any meadows. Hell, I haven’t even really been 100 percent shirtless except in the shower, and if those little twits are getting me in the shower, then they are more dedicated to biting me than I am to not getting bitten. I’ve decided those bites are the result of my audacious decision to sit on the front porch in a slinky, thin shirt for about half an hour the other day. They bit right through that shirt, between the slats of the rocking chair.
I saw this on the Facebooks today and it didn’t make me feel any sort of “woo hoo we’re No. 1” pride for my city. No, it just made me realize how lucky I am that I haven’t gotten a disease from the biters yet. My ex-boyfriend got freaking encephalitis a few years ago from a mosquito (at least that’s what was thought). So it’s not just a scary internet tale.
Time to stock up on the Skin So Soft, which is the only thing that helps, even though it really doesn’t help that much.
Not even kidding, as I was going to tag this post and hit publish, one came up to my ear, sang a whiny little song, and landed on my arm. I am sitting on my couch. In the house. The windows are open but it feels like an imposition just the same.
I would never tell the other seasons, but fall is my favorite, favorite, favorite. The way the air wake up your lungs when you breathe it in deep, the way you can layer your clothes and peek out at the world, the way each day changes the landscape around you and you are all too aware of how finite things are.
I’d never been to Radnor Lake until a couple of days ago, when the boys and I took a hike around the lake and saw the sights. I was amazed. The caretakers’ house, the valve shack, the incredible history behind the whole area. A little treasure I’d never considered before, unfolding before my eyes with every step around the lake.
Nashville is a beautiful city and I’m grateful for the chance to be here.
Whole photo set is here, if you’d like to see more.