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I think dogs all love me, even if they growl a bit. I know that not all humans are fans of my dark humor and frequent moodiness. Bugs, though, especially the bitey ones, love me. Mosquitos, gnats, invisible little stinging demons, they gather around me no matter what hair color or perfume or bug repellent I’m wearing. My blood is nectar. Even cutting out most sugar has proved pointless.

I’m using a combo of some environmentally friendly essential oil spray and high octane DEET stuff. Don’t tell me about the consequences unless you can train the bugs to go elsewhere somehow. Ya know what’s most difficult when spots on every appendage itch? Sleeping.

I’m on a yoga retreat in the jungle. There’s a lot of nature in Cabuya, Costa Rica, and insects are just one element of this thriving ecosystem. Flowers emerge from fronds and hide behind broad leafed hedges. Every hue of green, with stripes of yellow and white and red dance with the breeze, beneath aqua sky and wispy clouds.

Thank goodness for each creepy crawly being. Pollen makes the world go around. Vibrant blossoms strut and posture briefly before withering as fertilizer or transforming into fruit. Bugs are drawn to their youthful fragrance, ensuring their, and our, survival. I must be a beautifully scented flower-human to the sting-y pollinators.

Perhaps the itchiness is worth the rainbow.