I'm a simple emigrant and I love mosquitoes

For choosing to live outside of Frankfurt. It's amazing, but in these few years in Germany I completely forgot about the existence of mosquitoes and midges. But in the first eight seconds in Tyumen they instantly reminded me who’s boss here. For reference: our city was built on swampy ground, so the mosquitoes here are happy and living their best life. And you can tell by them—they're already as big as my head and, without shame, will land on your neck and on any exposed places. Sprays, by the way, you can also keep for yourself. Most of them—the mosquitoes—love to go with food as if they were sauces. We with the family went to the park to stroll, but we lasted about 10 minutes, then we raced to the car to get away from this invasion as fast as possible. Sometimes you can't hide from mosquitoes even at home! My friend left the other day and forgot to close the window at home, and when she came back, as expected her apartment was already inhabited by 84 mosquito families. If you don't know what that means, just believe me that sleeping like that is impossible. She says: “I pulled off the blanket and told them, bite me already, every single one of you, and leave me alone!”. Spoiler: they didn't stop. Of course, you can go for a daytime walk, then you won't see any insects. But then the poplar fluff comes in. I tried to photograph this phenomenon so that the scale would be clear, but I couldn't. I don't know why Ivanushki sang about July (don't thank me, now you'll never stop singing that song); here right now the fluff is flying in a solid wall. It keeps trying to fly into your nose, mouth, eyes—go ahead and pull out those old COVID masks. In Frankfurt we don't have that either. And what are your annoying attributes of summer? Are there mosquitoes, the fluff, or bikers, perhaps? #russia