I dreamed last night that I was walking through a field of mud, and as the dream proceeded I realized that this was not mud but largely oil. The soil itself was mired with black oil and the field stretched all around me as far as the eye could see. The farther I walked, the more acutely aware I became of a pervasive gassy odor such that it finally became nearly overwhelming. There was a noise as well that steadily increased, a mechanical humming growing to a rattling roar. I awoke at last through a trudging of laborious seconds to the realization that this was the sound of a large truck passing on the street and that the area was being hosed with acrid clouds of mosquito preventative.
Well good, I guess. I myself had been stung multiple times during the night and had awaken multiple times because of this. They take these precautions in seasons high for dengue fever--although judging from my experience this night, the measures might have been taken too late for my benefit. And while it is clear that these deadly clouds are not good for the health of the mosquitoes, one cannot help but wonder how good they are for one's own respiratory health. It is advisable of course to shut all doors and windows and turn off the AC as the clouds roll in, but on the other hand, they do this at around 5 o'clock in the morning, and who wants to get up at 5 in the morning to run around shutting doors and windows and turning off the AC?
All this reminded me at last of the mountain forests where I used to spend my summers, of how the air was permeated with a sort of miraculous cleanness, where even the dirt was clean, and the stones, and the scrub brush, and the huckleberry and blueberry bushes were clean and exhaling a sort of minty purity, and there was the scent of the pines and the firs, the skin of cedar and birch, and the water sparkled like seltzer on the shore and at the deep you could see all the way to the bottom. I slept again standing on one of those shores, thankful, safe, at home, and at uncommon rest.
Well good, I guess. I myself had been stung multiple times during the night and had awaken multiple times because of this. They take these precautions in seasons high for dengue fever--although judging from my experience this night, the measures might have been taken too late for my benefit. And while it is clear that these deadly clouds are not good for the health of the mosquitoes, one cannot help but wonder how good they are for one's own respiratory health. It is advisable of course to shut all doors and windows and turn off the AC as the clouds roll in, but on the other hand, they do this at around 5 o'clock in the morning, and who wants to get up at 5 in the morning to run around shutting doors and windows and turning off the AC?
All this reminded me at last of the mountain forests where I used to spend my summers, of how the air was permeated with a sort of miraculous cleanness, where even the dirt was clean, and the stones, and the scrub brush, and the huckleberry and blueberry bushes were clean and exhaling a sort of minty purity, and there was the scent of the pines and the firs, the skin of cedar and birch, and the water sparkled like seltzer on the shore and at the deep you could see all the way to the bottom. I slept again standing on one of those shores, thankful, safe, at home, and at uncommon rest.
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