By KAREN MADORIN
So…no see ums in hordes visited us this fall. When I say no see um, I mean that. I can bury arms, legs, and trunk in jungle-like tomato vines as I search for ripe or nearly ripe fruits. In no time, creatures so small I barely see them ferociously bite the tarnation out of me.
The first time it happened, the little devils chomped ankles and calves. Keep in mind I’m tall so it’s a distance from eyes to feet. For all the stinging I felt, I saw nothing I could blame for the pain. I hauled my now itching carcass out of those entwining vines and plopped onto a sunny step to contort my ankle into position so I could see well. All I noted were tiny black dots that looked like pepper flakes I sprinkle on our scrambled eggs each morning. While staring at these miniscule purveyors of pain, I saw one move, followed by a sharp biting sensation out of proportion to its size. The next morning, welts polka-dotted my lower body. One felt like a super-fine thorn protruded from it, but despite scratching and razoring the area, the sensation remained.
After spending another day searching for ripe tomatoes tucked into dark recesses, I ended up with swollen lumps covering my entire body and the realization that the thorn I thought I felt was actually one of these cotton-pickin’ bug bites. Again, the insects are smaller than poppy seeds or grains of pepper. Despite their miniscule size, their bites rival the discomfort of wasp and bee stings.
Apparently, I scratched in my sleep that night so I awakened to Richter scale irritations. Off to the prednisone and Neosporin aisle at our local store. The good news is I found no pepper-flake size bodies in my bed so the bites originated in the garden.
While I waited for anti-itch treatments to work, I searched the internet to learn what sort of invasion was ruining harvest. News sites reported on miniscule black bugs delivering painful bites. I sorted through suggestions, knowing this wasn’t a tick or chigger. I felt sure it wasn’t a flea either. Though I never found a definitive answer, reporters suggested labels—no see ums or midges (perfect for midget-size bugs) for these creatures.
That actually sounded familiar. My husband has used both terms in the past to describe small, biting insects that show up in the fall. Somehow, I had previously dodged them.
Our daughter, who lives on a ranch, confirmed they too suffered from masses of them this year as well. She dressed her girls in long sleeves, long pants, and tall boots before they worked cattle that weekend to protect them. I guess I should have skipped the t-shirts and capris during my tomato picking sessions. I’d have suffered less.
What I did learn, was that regardless of what you call these irritations, they eat destructive bugs such as aphids. So, while I may be doing an itchy-twitchy dance, the tiny invaders help my garden.