Mayflies. Gugh! If ever there were an insect perfectly made for a Hitchcock movie, "The Bugs," or a George Romero movie, "Night of the Mayfly," I've not yet met a more perfectly zombie-like bug.
I first encountered them by Lake St. Clair, Michigan, where my sister lives.
If it weren't that her Michigander husband is so nice and her children so adorable, I would never darken Michigan's door again because of those creepy floaty flappy things.Then, about five years ago, I found them swarming around the lights in the parking lot of our local shopping mall. EEEeeeeee, they followed me to Pittsburgh! It's more than the waving long tail-stinger looking thing they've got menacing on the hinter-end. It's the mindless stillness of the creatures as they cling to my windshield, or to my clothes, or to my arm. It's like they don't even know or care that they're about to be smeared by my windshield wiper - that's what they're here for. I would feel much better about sharing the world with them if I knew they were food for something noble or beautiful. Until that assurance is broadcast over the speakers in the plaza parking lot, I'm going to shudder every time I have to go pick up something at the store after 9 o'clock at night.
