It's March, obviously

So the March flies are here. Quite possibly the first time that I've noticed them 'in season' so to speak.

I don't like flies. I don't like them inside my house, especially. And march flies are a particularly heinous type of fly. I think they may be intending to take over the world.

There is something overtly malevolent about the march fly. It has a very deliberate flight, slow and steady and more often than not, in a straight line - towards your face. Either that or it's flying low, around your knees, again in that deliberate fashion that makes you wonder if it's thinking about tripping you up somehow.

Yes, I know it's a fly. But it has deep red eyes, and 'hums' rather than 'buzzes'. It has INTENT and a slow, solemn depth to it's flight through my house. I want to squash it but I end up running in the opposite direction - and more often than not, it follows me.

They give a nasty bite, you know. Nasty painful nasty, with a lump that will itch for days as a follow-up.

I wonder if by anthropomorphising a fly, I'm allowing some sort of strange insight into my own psyche?


When my husband comes home he will get out the fly swatter and go on a hunt for the nasty critter. He will also get the 3 blowies and half a dozen black house flies that made it inside as the kids did their running in and out earlier. My house will be fly-free again.