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As the city lights recede in my rear-view mirror, I now have an unobstructed view of the western horizon which is still glowing blue from where the sun went down. The clouds appear dark and two -dimensional against the back-lit sky. The rest of the sky is dark except for that sliver of a moon just above the blue horizon-glow.
My surroundings have changed from urban sprawl to farmland fields of rice. Now there are frequent sounds of flying exoskeletal organisms impacting my windshield. Turning off the beaten path, I head west and the air is teaming with life. As I accelerate back up to freeway speed, I am driving through an ocean of insects. It sounds just like driving in a rain storm except for the absence of the windshield wipers and the tires-on-wet-asphalt sound. Approaching the back gate of the airport, I can see clouds of swirling insects under every light. I leave the comfort of my car to walk inside to check in.
Inside the office, it is freezing cold from the air-conditioning being on full blast all day. While inside, I notice that I have already been bitten twice by mosquitos who have managed get to me undetected. I gather up my things and head outside to work. The summer night air is still and humid and has that smell of lush plants and weeds. Beads of sweat start to form on my forehead.
My work takes me to various well-lit places where the bugs are congregating. The light excites them and they seem to fly out of control, intoxicated by the brightness. I try to dodge them but it is impossible. They get in my hair, hit me in the face, go down my back and stick to the sweat on my arms. I feel something moving down the side of my face but I don't know if it is a bug or the sweat running off.
Underneath the lights, there are drifts of what looks like wild rice against the curbs but these piles are moving. Upon closer inspection, there is an incredible variety of winged insects all crawling over each other, dazed by the light and grounded from flight.
As the night wears on, it gradually cools a bit and there are fewer and fewer bugs to be seen. Piles of mostly dead bugs litter the ground underneath every bright light. My car's windshield and front bumper are a graveyard of spattered little bodies. After I leave the airport, the day shift sweeps the bugs out of the truck bays into mounds where the birds will pick through them to find the live ones and feast on the plentiful bounty!
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