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On the river trip last month, I was the center of a traveling valence shell of
mosquitoes. It was a space that was guaranteed to contain a great many of the
parasites everywhere I went. Fortunately, a bottle of Muskol that was probably
purchased when I was in grade school kept the things off of me indefinitely.
They wouldn't latch on, but they didn't know better than to hang out, circling,
looking for an opening which never came.
Now, the Rogue River has a fair share of bats. If a walking probability field
of flying insects holds still, out in the open, a second field of flying fauna
develops.
I was describing this to Toni in the car the other day - how cool it was to be
surrounded by the sound of helpless mosquitoes, as well as the many sounds of
the rodent sonar. I was telling her that you'd just catch a glimpse of a bat
in the dark now and then when Parker interjected from the back.
"I don't like bats!"
"Why not, Parker?"
In a tone of voice that was both very patient and extremely exasperated with my
ignorance of this fact, he responded, "Because they suck your BLOOD, dude!"
-rbarry
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