Ah, the sounds of a Southern Summer! The gentle patter of rain upon the tin roof, the boom of distant thunder, the sudden arc of lightning, and then the gentle passage of the storm, replaced by the drone and hum of mosquitoes. Millions of malevolent mosquitoes, makers of malarial misery for milliards, harbingers of ague, vectors of Yellow Jack. Oh, nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina...running barefoot in the dewy grass of a morning, running a rusty nail into your foot and the resultant tetanus, the deer tick bringing the gift of Lyme disease, the miasma of the stagnant creek and swamp.... Ah, the Southland! Water moccasins, alligators, and all!
|