Lunch today was late. So, so late that I almost missed the sunlight in the garden to take photos of the stuffed chicken breasts that Alex made and the chicken salad with pecans, grapes and pineapple that I prepared. It’s the fault of those bloody insects that inhabit the garden.
We were getting ready for bed last night when small, light green insects started flying in from the garden. Nasty little things. They alighted on our skin and crawled. Shooing them away made them more persistent. They just flew at us again and again. “Attacking” would be a more appropriate description. Speedy found an easy way out—he went upstairs and went straight to sleep in our upstairs room. But I didn’t want to sleep there. It’s rather cramped in that room and the air-conditioner is not as good as the one downstairs. With doors and windows shut, I took the canister of bug spray and filled the room with the mist. Naturally, I had to wait until the awful smell was gone before I could go back inside. That took, what… an hour? Maybe longer.
When I finally got rid of the insects and the smell of the bug spray had dissipated, I started getting ready for bed. Oh, finally! Or so, I thought. That was when I discovered that a frog was lying on the floor next to the door that leads to the garden. Not a toad but the kind with slimy skin and sticky feet. Like this…
I took that photo back in 2008. The frog was on the glass of the living room window. The one last night looked like that except it was on the floor. What the heck… Who wants to sleep with a frog in the room? Frogs don’t turn into princes… that’s just fairy tale! I debated whether to open the sliding door again to shoo the frog away BUT risking that the nasty insects would come flying back in.
Well, my loathing for frogs is stronger than my aversion to insects. I got a broom with an extra long handle, pushed the sliding door open and swept the frog right through the door. Faster than the insects could manage to come flying back in, I shut the door close again. That was the only time I managed to get ready for bed.
Yes, such is life in the tropics. It’s more than palm swaying in the summer breeze, as the song goes. It’s insects galore. And during the monsoon season when rainfall is interspersed with warm and humid days, all kinds of critters invade human habitats. I wish I could replicate here how the frogs sing in a chorus while it rains, and how we can literally hear the insects buzzing around after the rain stops. But, as I have often been reminded, the fact that all these critters still manage to survive in my neighborhood means the suburb is still not as polluted as the sprawling cities. And some are pretty wonderful.
For the past two or three nights, we had dragonflies in the house. Larger than the one in the photo (circa 2008).
And, early in the morning, we still hear birds chirping in the garden.
I suppose we still have it better up here in the hills than what they have in the city (they have only mosquitoes, flies and cockroaches down there).
Still and all, I can do without the frogs.