While the song may be about how bad the black flies are in Northern Ontario, they are a nuisance here in Southeastern New Brunswick as well. Finally, yesterday, a beautiful warm sunny day so I plunked myself down on my outdoor swing, in the cool of the shade, overlooking the river. It wasn't too long before I began to itch here and there realizing those tiny little black flies were feasting on my person. Having a thick head of hair is no deterrent, either. They are quite adept at reaching the scalp, flying up pant legs or sleeves without being felt or noticed.
A few summers back, when we were country newbies, hubs decided to shave his head as the weather warmed. It actually suited him quite well! So, one day he trotted off to work in the garden, sans bug spray and/or sunscreen. Well, it was near the death of him. His poor scalp was eaten alive by black flies and flaming red from sunburn. In fact, he had been bitten so badly that he came down with flu-like symptoms. My poor baby.
I came home one afternoon to find him lying on the couch with a fever. My first view was of the top of his head. I gasped, then my jaw dropped as I stared at what looked like an alien reclining on my couch. The skin had tightened from being sunburned, then cracked and all those bites had been weeping. It was not a pretty site but I bit my tongue and made sure he wasn't needing a trip to the emergency war. He was overcome with discomfort, but he lives to talk about it. As much as we both dislike using bug spray, it's become a necessary evil.
And with that, I'll leave you with a little song about the lovely little black fly.