grace in all things

It’s the mosquitoes that inspire me the most to keep up an adequate pace running through severe southern heat and humidity. The moment I stop they’re ready, prepared to taunt my weakness by most annoying stings of itch. The dastardly beings offer contrast of miseries: remain scorched with poison spots I must will myself not to tend, multiplying despite effortful vigilance to prevent, or, continue on in the agony of my first place endeavor. There’s a lesson to be learned in this.
Of course, there’s bug spray and fool I would be to forget the benefits of the chemicals that relieve – prevent even! – the miniature bites that drive my impulses and uncomfort me to whine. There’s modernity, I suppose. Of course, those chemicals are poisons in themselves that are more silent and sneaky in their evil. What will come of their doings? There’s a lesson to be learned there, too.

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