The common thread in my life between mosquitoes and poison ivy is my wife, Jenna, who seems to attract both. Mosquitoes find her particularly tasty, and she was unable to get off her bike, lock it to our porch, and get inside our house this summer without at least one bite – often several. I should mention that she is quite good at locking up her bike and does so quickly and efficiently. These bites are not because she is dawdling.
Poison ivy also has a strong affinity for Jenna, and has caused her frustration, discomfort, embarrassment, sleeplessness, and many other side-effects of the itchy inflammation. At least once since we met four years ago, she had the misfortune to get a small amount of urushiol – the inflammatory ingredient in poison ivy, poison oak, and poison sumac – onto her face. I think she is beautiful all the time, of course, but that week she wouldn’t believe me. This is also not her fault. We are good at spotting poison ivy, and she is conscientious about washing after being in the woods. Her sensitivity is so high that secondary or tertiary exposure to a very small amount of urushiol seems to be enough to cause a reaction.
Perhaps you would suggest that the impacts of these two species on my wife are not sufficient to be the focus of this entire post. I must point out that her distress over a poison ivy attack is significant, and distresses me as well. However, there are larger forces at work here that Jenna can help us to investigate.
What do mosquitoes and poison ivy have in common? There are two answers, and one is Jenna. The other is range shift, a process both species are experiencing. The shifts seen among insect species as our climate changes before our eyes are analogous to the shifts that took place during the retreat of the last ice age.
Species migrate, of course, as we did around 60,000 years ago, meandering from Africa to the Fertile Crescent and on to the rest of the globe. We also assist other species in making dramatic changes, either by killing all the dodos, bringing snakes to Guam, or transporting diseases or organisms on our bodies.
Of course, we are also good at changing the environment locally and globally. Locally we cut down forests for cropland, change the course of rivers, and create lawns to mow. Globally, we have placed a great many inputs into the natural system, some of which are simple and observable, and many of which will take decades or centuries to play out.
There are many positive things we can do to change our environment as well, of course. Efforts at controlling the mosquito population have been undertaken by many municipal governments, especially locales suffering from West Nile, such as Baltimore. Programs that engage the citizenry have the best chance of success, however. When residents eliminate breeding areas on their property, any chemical efforts by the city will be much more effective. Gardening practices can also improve our chances to save Jenna some summer bites. Our backyards, parks, and urban gardens are excellent places to grow marigold, catnip, citronella, and beebalm, all of which repel mosquitoes.
Poison ivy, on the other hand, is a real nasty problem, and is best dealt with by avoidance. Mowing or burning can aerosolize the urushiol, damaging lungs and eyes. Limited success can be had with weeding (carefully), or using nasty herbicides, but it’s best to try not to let it get onto your property in the first place.
Poison ivy and mosquitoes, just like so many other species, are finding longer and better breeding and growing seasons further and further north. West Nile is now a seasonal concern, rather than an isolated outbreak.
Oh, and if the poison ivy great-grandmother tree trunks I saw last summer in Virginia are any indication, northerners have some nasty surprises coming.
Next time: Baltimorian Food!
