After one of the driest summers in recent memory, recent showers were a welcome relief. The rainbows appeared, the grass perked up and the flowers bloomed again.

Yes, beauty was everywhere until, of course, millions of flood mosquito eggs hatched. In a matter of hours, we were literally swamped with squadrons of blood-sucking bugs.

Not even a heavy dose of Off kept them away, and maybe that’s because they’re skeeters from Texas. And everything in the Lone Star State, from bugs to the state capitol, carries that unique Texas stamp.

We’re big. We don’t quit. We’re ferocious.

Growing up in New York state, six months of snow kept mosquitoes and bugs at bay. After we moved to Louisiana, however, my knowledge of the insect world grew exponentially because we were surrounded with bugs year round.

From the cicadas in the trees to the stinging caterpillars – which should be used in trench warfare – to stink bugs, southern states have more than their fair share of creepy crawlers.

I shouldn’t mind the bugs as they’re all part of Mother Nature’s plan. But my rational mind is overruled by my irrational mind when I spot something skulking across the floor.

Like the cockroach.

These insects date back thousands of years. They adapt to any environment, they’re indestructible and absolutely gross. Walking outside after dark and seeing one crawling across the sidewalk sends me running for the front door.

Once you know these 2-inch long monsters can glide from the top of a tree, or a door frame, and sail down on top of your head, those prehistoric bugs become a living nightmare.

Texas is also home to the practically indestructible fire ant. Nothing, and I mean nothing, seems to be able to get rid of those ferocious ankle biters.

They can survive for days at sub-zero freezing temperatures and a prolonged drought. No amount of ant killer, Tide detergent or, in desperate measures, gasoline and a match, can destroy them. The grass might be struggling to survive and the shrubs are withered and brown, but the fire ants are alive and well.

Like their cousin the cockroach, fire ants survive floods, hurricanes and twisters. Maybe it’s because they’re sneaky. They hide down in the ground and, when they hear a person arriving, they’re out of that hole like after-Thanksgiving Day Wal-Mart shoppers.

Right behind the ruthless fire ants are the Crazy Raspberry Ants. Although they’re small, they’re not hard to spot – they scurry around like they’re on crack. They’re an invasive insect that’s recently made its debut here in the Houston area, and there’s nothing on the market to get rid of them.

Great. One more bug that’ll be here long after humans, like Elvis, leave the building.

The crazy ant’s cousin is the pesky but fairly harmless sugar ant. Once those ants are in the house, they’re harder to get rid of than telemarketers on a Friday night. Nothing’s worse than opening a cereal box and finding those little critters crawling all over the Capt’n Crunch.

But there’s more to fear in the creepy crawly Texas world than just ants and bugs. One of the creatures that thrives in the South and terrifies me is the newt. They’re those small, embryonic salamanders that are absolutely disgusting because you can see right through them.

They don’t bite and they’re pretty harmless, but they scare the daylights out of me. I’ve actually paid a neighbor’s son to get them out of my house. He looked at me like I was crazy, but those newts definitely belong in the bushes, not my kitchen window sill.

Cool weather has finally arrived, and the first cold snap wiped out the flood mosquitoes. Thankfully, we’ll have a couple of months of mosquito-free weather until spring arrives.

The flowers will bloom, the grass will grow and the mosquitoes and fire ants will return, bringing their distant cousin, the Love Bug, with them.

I can hardly wait.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.