You come into a dense thicket. It looks like the trail is unmaintained here, but there is definitely a trail. It would be no trouble pressing forward through the spring-slap branches and the face-tugging leaf piles if it weren’t for those damn mosquitoes!
As soon as you extend an elbow or place a hand to perform any kind of useful work, such as moving a bramble out of your way, the mosquitoes land all on the tips of your ears, bite the veins on your wrists, or just sink a twenty-foot hole through your clothes into the flesh. And if not the mosquitoes then the gnats stake out your eye lids.
There are three different kinds of mosquito. One is black with white stripes. There are the small brown ones. And the large brown ones. They each have a different size needle to inject their skin-numbing saliva into you. Oh, there’s a little black one with a determined face. That makes four kinds.
You can hear the frogs croaking and it looks like you might be descending into a sort of stagnant bog. Except for the blood suckers it is a pleasant place. But perhaps best to keep moving…
(mosquito squash counter)