As a life-long farmer, avid gardener, serious bird-watcher and a retired hiker, I have always spent a lot of time out of doors. I’ll confess that a garden with too many plants, a lonely trail or a large sitting-rock in a shaded forest top my list of favorite places.
I have long scoffed at those who proclaim the perils of the great outdoors. I salute all efforts to get people, especially the youth, outside. I love gardens, but have yet to see one that matches what occurs without man’s intervention.
For me, frequent rambles through poison ivy have yielded no ill effects. If that pest ventures into one of my gardens, I pull it out before thinking about getting a glove. I’m blessed, but recently I have started to head for the soap and water after serious encounters. My thought is of my wife who has learned that I am a carrier.
Someone told me that ticks are attracted to people with certain blood types. I don’t believe that, but the ticks seem to like me even more than the hospital did during my blood donor days. My blood type is unusual, but not rare.
On the tick front, my record for a single outing is 13. I’ll also admit that I have had multiple Lymes scares because of missed ticks.
Unfazed by the above, I met my match several days ago. I made two bird watching jaunts to two locations in neighboring Chester County. I came home with a first, but nasty, case of chiggers. I was told about them in Texas several years ago, but had no idea that they lived anywhere near here.
A friend, who is younger and wiser, told about getting them picking wine berries. The tasty red berries often grow along our back roads, in abandoned fields or along woods edge. She told me how chiggers bore into your skin and how to effectively smother them with clear nail polish.
Medical sources on the internet suggest that the previous sentence contains old wives tales. Really, they are a near microscopic relative of the ticks. When they attach, they inject toxins into your skin. Brushing, scratching or bathing will almost certainly dislodge them. Unfortunately by the time you recognize you have a problem, it’s too late.
Without any more details, let me assure you that you don’t want to encounter them. On both walks I was on established trails only venturing off to grab a few wine berries. Go figure, but meaningless, I’m sure.
As soon as the welts go down I’m headed for the woods. Maybe sooner if it takes as long as some sources suggest, but this time I’ll forego my lackadaisical relationship with DEET. An application is supposed to last two to three hours. I guess my watch will need to be added to the things I look at when outside.
