By MIKE CORN
Water, water everywhere and nary a mosquito larva left to hatch.
That's because they've all hatched and have been zooming around the countryside dining on poor unsuspecting people.
That would be me, in case anyone missed the hint.
Let me tell you, this is perhaps one of the worst outbreaks of mosquitoes that I've seen in years. And yes, I'm confident it's not just because I'm the target of them all.
On opening day of dove season, the flying dive bombers were so prolific, so annoying, so bloodthirsty and oh so big that I headed inside for a good dose of bug spray.
I know, I know, big whoop.
It's just that I don't use bug spray. Haven't for about 10 years, given the mosquito outbreaks have been manageable and they really haven't bothered me much.
Before anyone else says or thinks it, perhaps I'm not as sweet as I thought. Who knew?
Before this year, when one of those crazy bugs decided to head for me, it just didn't bother me much. They stuck me, I slapped them and all was good.
What drove the problem home this time around, however, was a recent night when I got home late and had a few things to carry in.
No sooner had I stepped out of the truck than I was besieged by the dastardly bloodsuckers.
They were buzzing about, and one even had a quick snack on my leg.
Try as I might, it was impossible to get inside quick enough. Either that or the bug light wasn't living up to its name.
As I was kneeling down putting items in the refrigerator, first one, then two and finally three mosquitoes headed for the bright lights.
I waylaid every one of them, but not before a fourth decided the ankle was a great place for a late-night snack.
Surely that was it, I thought.
But no. There were more.
One on the shoulder, one on the leg and another on a foot.
They were everywhere.
I actually needed to pull some items out of the bed of the truck, but decided better, as I was already among the walking wounded, so to speak.
It's just astonishing to think this summer has been so peaceful, so kind, with so few mosquitoes until recent weeks.
And a scant 4 inches of rain was enough to change all that.
For a moment, I thought about wishing for a return to 100-degree days or a sudden hard freeze to kill those suckers off.
But both have other implications, and I'm not quite ready for the tar and feathering from my neighbors who are hoping to eke out some kind of fall crop.
So I guess I'll have to barricade myself into the house when darkness falls, or earlier as the beasts like to come out at dusk and dawn.
I will, of course, venture out in the light and look for any standing water to dump and disrupt the life cycle as much as possible.
While doing that, I'll hope for some sort of mosquito holocaust.
No one, including me, would miss those disease carrying vermin.