Swamp Angels

We met the most hated and feared creature in the Florida Everglades soon after we arrived.

And we naively thought that we could enter its environment without caution or protective gear.

We were wrong.  And it cost us in blood.

So now we leave our trailer swathed in mosquito netting and bug jackets.

Raid and Off, once despised, are our new best friends.

We dash back into the sanctuary of our trailer, quickly closing the door, and then watch the black “swamp angels” that rode in on our backs dance along the ceiling. Once you hit them, they leave a splat of red blood on our white vinyl.

But it was our choice to go right to the bottom of the Everglades. We chose the farthest point on the road, the most southern spot on the country’s mainland, overlooking Florida Bay on the Gulf of Mexico. Why do anything halfway?

Indeed, we could have stayed at the first campground we passed. Just inside the boundaries of the park, we did stop there to fill up on clean water. That was where hubby struggled to close the drain on the fresh water tank which was left open when we winterized in Canada. No bugs of any kind bothered us at that campground.

But we wanted to see the real Everglades, so we drove on to the Flamingo Campground, deep inside the national park.

The swamp mosquitoes, or “angels” – not my choice of name, believe me – have smaller wings that are not bothered by the stiff bay breezes. These creatures influence every activity we do. Cooking is no longer comfortably done outside. Most hiking is not recommended at this time of year, and paddling is only bug free when you are on the bay. We did take a couple of bike rides along the park road, but boy! You had to boogie to outrace those monsters.

They say the mosquitoes are less (but never absent) in February.  That’s one of the reasons that the first 3 months of the year are the busiest down here. But we will be gone by then. And for once, I’m glad this particular side trip has an ending.

I know I’m being a wimp, but I’m tired of hearing the angels singing in my ears.

W