(From a similar thread last year)
Every year I forget just how vicious they can be at that time of the year.
I've a very vivid memory from last August, turning up to a campsite in the North West to meet some friends. It was a beautiful evening and the campsite appeared to be busy. There were lots of tents but something wasn't quite right… Food lay partially eaten on picnic tables; bikes lay abandoned on the grass, back wheels slowly turning to a halt; a frisbee hung momentarily in the air before clunking to the ground; but nowhere was there a human being to be seen.
I pondered this weird land-bound Mairi Celeste tableau as the sunset faded and I turned off the car ignition. The low bass thrum of the diesel engine died to be replaced by a growing sound, first at the edge of my consciousness, but steadily intensifying; the sound of light rain. But how could it be from a cloudless sky on that last, perfect day of summer? I felt a shiver run down my spine as my hand reached for the door pull and I opened my cocoon to the gathering gloaming.
I stepped out…
Later that evening I sat in another car drinking heavily with friends as others arrived. They'd blithely and gaily spring forth and we'd take wagers on how long it'd be before they were clawing frantically at their exposed flesh as if beset by madness or bees.
"9 seconds I reckon, Ian".
"Nah, 14".
"1-2-3-4".
"Whoah!"
Resistance is futile.