Flies

On Kit Hill this morning, I gallumphed among the heather and the golden stems of dried grass under deep blue skies, surrounded by clouds of tiny fluttering white moths.

For much of my walk. I was tormented by a particularly persistent and malignant horsefly which seemed bent on following me wherever I went, despite my feeble attempts to out-run it, my random irritated flailing and the rich selection of curses that I rained upon it and all its ilk .

It has been suggested that the more clothes you have on, the more savage the bugs.   If this is true, I dread to think what this one would have been like if I had encountered it while wearing a coat.  Possibly I would have had to fight it off with a spear.

Anyway, in between the flailing, thwacking, etc,  I considered this problem and came up with MANY THEORIES:

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