Windswept – Savoring the Seasons
Excerpt by Scot Henley.
I am a New Englander. More specifically, I'm a resident of the Mount Washington Valley. I love it here. Our little area of New Hampshire has natural beauty, great quality of life, and low crime. But most of us would probably rank "the changing seasons" near the top of the list of reasons for living here. Autumn leaves, the smell of spring, the snow capped peaks‹all are quite distinct and very special.
However, there are seasons that transcend the usual winter, spring, summer, and fall. Sure, the temperatures rise and fall, the days grow longer and shorter as time moves along, but here in the Valley we are under the influence of an entirely different set of seasons.
Let's face it. The most poignant, dreaded, unmistakable season in northern New England is Bug Season. From Mothers' Day to Fathers' Day, we are under constant attack by mosquitoes, black flies, no-see-ums, and a plethora of unidentified crawly things whose entire lifespan is spent trying to find the perfect light fixture to crawl into and die. It's the only time of year where I will seek out harmful, stinky chemicals and douse myself in them. Citronella is useless against these attackers. I need 100 percent DEET. If someone invents a DEET cologne, let me know; I'll buy it. DEET pills? DEET candy? Get me some of that!
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