But sometimes, the message is pretty clear.
I started a new walking route today to try to reduce the amount of traffic noise I get in my previous circle. I checked the distance by car yesterday and it will require some extra looping and crossing a major street or two, but it is much quieter.
A bonus to the route is it takes me past my little nature trail, a one mile, densely grown green area with a mulch path. It is reasonably good practice for my upcoming hikes and offers a nice cooling respite towards the end of my walk (about a mile or so left after the nature circuit).
Problem is, less than a hundred feet into the path, I was assailed by bees (or wasps or other buzzing, stinger-possessed flying things). I offered a few swats (futile) and accepted their suggestion to reverse course and travel the other way through the area.
Shortly after passing a crazy-cool area of the preserve (seriously, it was like 15 degrees cooler), I was set upon by a couple of more buzzing creatures. Okay. As I said above, I may be missing an innate sense of when to leave, but I do pretty well when someone (or something) says, flatly, “Get out!”
The last time this happened, it was with my elder nieceling and we assumed it was perfume or lotion she was wearing. This time, I had no explanation for being chased. I certainly don’t put on scents when I’m about to walk for six or seven miles (what would be the point?) and I can’t recall ever being confused for a pretty flower, in scent or appearance.
Considering my recent battles with an overly aggressive crow and another (and more persistent) buzzing thing, I am thinking maybe my something spilled on my hat. I’ll try a new one next week when I attempt to traverse the nature path once more.
Not being able to “train” on the path is disappointing, but not even knowing why I’m apparently not wanted there really bugs me.