A fly bit me. It was a horsefly, boldly clinging onto my arm while gingerly piercing a hole in my arm ready to sup on my blood. It would not get off. I don't blame it; it was doing what any horsefly would do.
I thought I had got off lightly: there was only a reddish mark on my arm. By evening the next day, however, it was swelling into a little lump. Today, it is even bigger.
'Squeeze it,' Kirsty said with a gleam in her eye.
'Ew!' I was horrified at her suggestion. 'I don't want to get an infection...or scar.'
Dad was slightly more sensible and bought me some antiseptic wipes.
Obviously the photograph above isn't a horsefly - I don't think I could have concentrated on taking a photograph while it was snacking on my flesh - but it is there to show life-through-the-lens. Sometimes it's too tempting to see insects as "something else"...easy to squash or swat away. Looking through the macro lens, you can get a real appreciation for life, no matter how small.
'Squeeze it,' Kirsty said with a gleam in her eye.
'Ew!' I was horrified at her suggestion. 'I don't want to get an infection...or scar.'
Dad was slightly more sensible and bought me some antiseptic wipes.
Obviously the photograph above isn't a horsefly - I don't think I could have concentrated on taking a photograph while it was snacking on my flesh - but it is there to show life-through-the-lens. Sometimes it's too tempting to see insects as "something else"...easy to squash or swat away. Looking through the macro lens, you can get a real appreciation for life, no matter how small.
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