Spring is in the air

For those of you who moved to Daniel Island in the last 12 months — spoiler alert! I suspect you wished to abandon the traffic and taxes in New York, New Jersey, or New England to escape to the lure of the Lowcountry. We longer-term residents welcome you, although our tenure here on DI doesn’t count for diddly squat on the South of Broad longevity scale. You will love the weather (well, maybe not a few months without an R), culture, and cuisine. Spring brings so much to enjoy. The beaches, walking trails, great concerts coming to Credit One Stadium, the Spoleto Festival (and related events) downtown, and the Rotary Charity Duck Race on Guggenheim Lake. The Holy City is hospitable and its people are known for their overt friendliness. 

 

In that spirit, I hope I’m not overstepping that sense of kindness by telling you about two other seasonal surprises that your real estate agent probably failed or forgot to cover.

 

One is pollen season. By the time you read this, it will probably already be on your doorstep. No, literally, dusted all over the damn doorstep. And the outdoor furniture, the car, and the dog if you let it out too long. It will stain your white jeans and your soul. You, your kids, your friends, and the pets will track it in on the furniture, floors and rugs. While safety dictates grabbing a handrail as you ascend or descend stairs, you don’t dare. If you do, a glob of yellow-green dust will adhere to your hand, and then to whatever you touch next. Make sure that isn’t your eyes or nose. These will already be infused and inflamed with this springtime menace.

 

The stuff is a distinctive color. I say it is the same chartreuse hue that my lovely wife, Grace, directs me to buy in bananas. My Aunt Toogie says it is the same shade as safety vests worn by highway construction and clean-up crews. Toogie’s gentleman caller, Brevard, says it is a “dollop of Southern saffron” and has an ascot to match that he wears this time of year with a dusty, pale blue linen blazer.

 

This pollen comes from our numerous pine trees. For those of you who may have not paid attention in biology class, the pollen grains are produced in the male cone of a conifer. The pollination is described as anemophilous (literally, wind-loving) where great quantities of very lightweight pollen grains are transferred by wind to the female reproductive structure. If the kids ask too many questions at this point, you can just say the pollen stork does it. I’m not a pollen efficiency expert, but it strikes me that the male cones spew a heck of a lot of the pollen all over the place to reach a limited number of female receptors. The rest of it ends up on us and our stuff. Frankly, I don’t want to think about or pursue that topic any further.

 

Pollen’s evil sidekick is the no-see-um. Technically, they are ceratopogonidae, a great word for Scrabble but a crummy one for a patio party. They are more commonly referred to as biting midges, with the emphasis totally on the biting part. While both male and female no-see-ums feed on nectar, it is the female insect that feeds on the blood of vertebrates, including humans, to get protein for egg laying. The fact that it is only female no-see-ums that bite ankles, arms, and any other exposed skin is another avenue I’m not going to pursue further since Grace will be reading and editing this piece. But ladies beware — these critters love to go for your hair and it takes a heap of Head & Shoulders to get them out. And do not even think of using Dippity-Do!

 

The “no-see” part of their name is apt. They are small enough to pass through ordinary window screening. These flying torpedoes tend to circulate the most in mornings and evenings. I suspect they do that to wreak havoc on our morning walks and evening cocktails, but it may just be that we are their breakfast and dinner. No-see-ums can be trapped by luring them with carbon dioxide, but I think you need to get John Kerry’s permission to do that.

 

The good news is these two seasonal nuisances will pass. We residents accept and endure it to enjoy the many other wonderful aspects of life here. At times, though, we do talk about a bit like we once did about the blustery and snowy winter weather when we lived up north in places like Cleveland, Ohio; Buffalo, New York; or Providence, Rhode Island. You newbies are getting the full introduction right now. 

 

You’ll get through it, switch your license plates to South Carolina, and become a veteran of springtime in the Lowcountry. Some years from now, you’ll be telling a recent resident, “Oh yeah, the pollen’s bad this year, but it’s nothing like we had back in 2024. We had to wade waist deep through it that year. It was wicked awful!”