I tend to squeeze my writing into the mornings, often before the sun come up.  This is especially true when the day job takes me traveling because the days are busy and tiring, and writing in the evening is generally not possible. 

This morning, I got up as I have the past week and made my way to a ramshackle affair affectionately known as the “Yacht Club” on Palmyra.  It’s quiet, sheltered from the rain, and I can watch the lagoon emerge from the night as daylight creeps in.  I fired up my laptop and started to work on my current story. 

Plink.

Flying things—white flies, termites, cockroaches, and the occasional mosquito—are frequent visitors to the Yacht Club.  This one is a small termite attracted to the light of my laptop screen.  I swipe it away.

Plink.  Plink.

Hmm…  Two more, one of which bounces off my face before finding a landing zone on my screen.

Plink.  Plink.  Plink, plink, plink plink plink…

Uh oh.  Termite reproductive biology follows a strategy wherein they launch a whole bunch—and I’m talking a whole bunch—of males and females into the night.  Mating occurs and the females set off to find a nice new patch of wood in which to start a new colony.  The males…let’s just say they aren’t so lucky.  Termites tend to swarm on humid and still nights, presumably because they are poor flyers.  They are attracted to any light brighter than the moon.  Yup, it was humid and still last night.  Yep, my monitor is brighter than moon, and it’s now crawling with no fewer than two dozen termites.  They’re also crawling on my legs and glasses, and I think one just went down my shirt.  Ack!

Good thing I’m not made of wood.