The Spring Scourge

"I don't know why she swallowed a fly, I think she'll die"... song my mother sang in deep, dramatic tones to us when we were little.

    Flies serve their purpose.  They hover around rotting vegetation and dog droppings and do what they do at the level they are in the order of the Universe.  Your path will cross with them for only as long as you are near their target. Move away from the target and you are fly free.
   Not so in Australia.  Spring is Blow-Fly Season, a time when a kajillion winged terrorists per square kilometer are out and looking for action in the form of moisture.  You won't walk away from their target. You ARE their target as the most reliable sources of moisture are your eyes, nose and mouth.  A quick swat of the hand will not permanently shoo "blowies" away.  It is easy to identify Australians from visitors in the spring because most Aussies will not be swatting at the flies on their face until the blowies are approaching an aperture. Visitors walk around with their arms and hands constantly moving as if performing an exotic dance.

    In the bush, where availability of eyeballs gets pretty scarce, the blowflies can be relentless.  You might see pictures or cartoons of Aussies or tourists in the outback wearing netting over their head or the very iconic  hat with wine corks dangling by string from the brim.  The ever moving corks take the place of your hands in disturbing the flies.  I made myself  a white net (to match my hat) and can attest to just how weird it feels to have dozens of flies crawling so close yet so far away from the face.  And how liberating it is not to have to defend yourself all the time.

    But netting and bobbing corks in the city is more than a bit silly looking. Would you wear spurs on your cowboy boots in the city?  Didn't think so.  But one must be vigilant. You could be talking on your cell phone with your husband, laughing at a joke and a blowie will find his way to the back of your throat in a nanosecond. Or you could momentarily forget to breath through your nose while exercising and that next inhale gathered more than just oxygen.  Yes, I've swallowed two blow-flies this spring. Ugh. Ewwww.  cough, cough.  I haven't died...yet...but Spring's blow-flies are about the only reason I have to look forward to a Perth boiling hot summer.

    "She swallowed a horse...she died, of course...I wonder why."   Why was this woman swallowing animals of any size? How did the big ones get down her throat? And who wrote this weirdness anyway?  Childhood questions never answered.