

A small fragrant tree native to Colombia with a habitat below 5,000 feet. Living in the tropics is great as I get to enjoy the scent of Plumeria almost everyday. Unfortunately, the scent also reminds me of a frightening moment. It was late at night and the streets were empty as I made my way down the sidewalks of the commercial district. The cooling breeze off the Caribbean coast was bringing me the favorable scent of a large Plumeria as I approached the dark corner of an old, overgrown residential mansion. I was enjoying the perfume and comfortable temperature of my late walk with barley a flicker of concern for my safety when an unmistakable break in the silence brought a chill to my back. This was not the sounds of leaves fluttering in the trees. I knew I was being stalked. I knew I had to be careful with every impending moment or pay the consequence from one or more attackers. I tried to listen to the distance of the approaching danger while wondering whether to fight back or run. But I knew running would only delay the inevitable. The more I thought, the more I realized I was wasting precious time to act. I quickly turned around to challenge my predator when I felt a sharp pain on my neck⦠it was too late. As I brought my hand up in defense I realized that the futility of a strike would not erase the pain that I would have to endure. I was defeated. A walk in the dark was met by those that prey in the night. I had no one to blame accept for myself. I had lost, and the blood-thirsty Colombian mosquito had won. Photographed in Barranquilla and Cali.















