Thank you Taz...

I live in the city with the biggest annual mosquito-fighting budget in the country. I know, I know... something to be envious of, no?? And five years ago, we hired a new entomologist, Taz Stuart, to lead our annual battle to kill the little buggers before they kill our summer. It was quite the score to get him here - we snatched him right out from under the nose of the capital city of our neighboring province, in fact.

And regardless of those who can't live if they're not complaining, I'd have to say he's done a stand up job. Sitting in our back yard, despite the odd surviving pest, it's easy to forget that our ancestors settled on a flood plain... a flood plain with extensive marshlands scattered around to boot.

You really have to leave the city once in a while to truly appreciate what Taz does.

I got my chance this past weekend at the cottage. While it IS possible to marinate in enough mosquito spray to survive relatively unscathed, the number of mosquitoes in the "pristine" wilderness areas of the province are mind-blowing.

My husband and I were sitting down on the beach Saturday - watching the tail end of the sunset across the smooth surface of the water. It was a beautiful and serene moment, enjoying a little casual conversation, soaking up the end of the day.... kids already settled in the cabin.

Until we stopped talking. And in the silence that should have been, we heard a low, vibrating hum from the forest at our backs.

And realized, that if you sat still enough, you could actually FEEL the buzz of the millions of mosquitoes all around us.

Whoah.

So back in the city last night, in the back yard with the dog - sans mosquito spray even! All I could think was "Thank you Taz!"

(and I wonder how many mosquito-eaters we could fill per hour at the cottage.... do you think there's a Guinness record for that yet?)