Something we’re bringing back from southern New Jersey
About a million individual bug bites.
I didn’t see any of the notorious greenhead flies I grew up with. In the insect world, greenhead flies are the carnivorous flying Sherman Tank counterpart of the common housefly. They are heavily armored, and sink a tanker-sized pipeline into your arm or leg or neck. If you hit them, they pause, look up at you insolently, then fly off with the hunk of your flesh they’ve just extracted. The bite zone later turns into a burning itchy welt the size of Minneapolis. Whenever I’ve reported this to friends and acquaintances, they’ve seemed dubious — until seeing it in action themselves. Then I’ll get a call or email the tenor of which is: “I can’t believe it! They’re huge, and they’re vicious, and you can’t kill them. You can’t!” Greenheads swarm to humans near water, which when I was a kid always made for a great day at Brigantine Beach. After my parents put in a pool whenever the family was swimming and one of us reported sighting the first greenhead fly, we’d all bolt for the safety of indoors.
It rained almost continuously the past two weeks while we were in the Pine Barrens, which dampened greenhead activity. (I guess the heavy buggers can’t get off the ground with the extra weight of water.) I didn’t see a one, although I sure wanted to show them just once to my doubting kids. But no fear, there were plenty of other biting bugs, which left a maze of dots all across my daughter’s back. Mosquitoes are troubling, sure, but at least you can hear them coming, and you can relish the triumph of slapping their slow asses. It’s the sneaky teeny gnats, or no-see-ums, that feasted on our sweet Southern California flesh.
Now we’re in the airport awaiting our return to Los Angeles, where all these menacing mites were exterminated long ago. Which is one good thing you can say for air pollution.
June 25th, 2009 at 2:04 pm
Hey, we’re PROUD of our greenheads. They give the area a distinctive feel. My postal route takes me right alongside the salt marshes of Ventnor and on that one street I am at war with them. Hail to thee, honored foes.