As I've mentioned before, I like to go for walks most evenings. Sometimes a friend or two will tag along, but most of the time I'm walking alone.
One of my favorite places to walk is the nearby Heart of Iowa Trail. I can jump on just a couple blocks from our house, and usually follow it for a couple miles before turning around and heading back home. It's mostly shaded and almost completely solitary. I rarely see more than one or two people while walking.
Last night, at about eight o'clock, I was on the trail, nearing the end of my walk. I had just crested a small hill and was about to cross a street that intersects the part of the trail that goes through town. And that's when I saw it: fog.
It feels like lately I've been reading all kind of things about the need for spontaneity and living in the moment and carpe diem, and while I usually chalk all that up to a bunch of hippie crap, I decided maybe I should try to do small amounts of that kind of thing. See, I'm really not at all spontaneous, and I tend to majorly stress out when plans are changed at the last minute. Basically I'm the funnest person you've ever met. Also, I use words like 'funnest.'
So when the urge to speed up and run through that fog seized me, I obeyed the whim. After all, what's more fun and frolicsome than running through a low-lying cloud?
I had just reached the deepest, most dense part of the mist, and was actually really enjoying myself, when I opened my mouth to laugh. And realized that the fog tasted nasty.
Then my eyes started to burn.
Then my notoriously unreliable nose registered a chemical smell.
It was about that point that a I saw a truck pull around the corner, a big machine of some sort in its bed, spewing a blanket of the noxious cloud over our little town.
I had been romping through a cloud of mosquito repellant. No wonder my lungs felt tight.
The good news is, I didn't get a single mosquito bite last night!