I used to think I didn’t sweat. I grew up in dry-as-a-bone Utah, and I can remember seeing movies of people with sweat pouring off their brows and wondering what was wrong with them. When I worked outside as a kid, sweat would evaporate in the dry wind just as fast as it would form (plus, I never worked that hard).
Then I moved to Indiana. My sweat, or “glow,” as Sister Vaudis insisted I call it, has increased a thousandfold. My glow drips down my face. It pools in my armpits. Sunday I dragged Paul to Prophetstown for what I claimed with be “a short walk.” Prophetstown is not very big, so when the nice lady asked if we needed a map as we drove in, I said “No thanks.” What I thought would take about 20 minutes turned into an hour and 45. And it was hot. And it was humid. And we were in an honest-to-goodness fen (the interpretive signage even said so), and said fen produced lots of mosquitos!
But we did see lots of beautiful butterflies and other insects, including this stunning dragonfly who followed us for at least half a mile. I don’t know what kind it is–but I’ll ask Arwin the Entomologist and he can tell me. In the meantime, here he/she is: