During this time of civil unrest in our great country, I remind myself daily to find joy, share it with others, and do my part to ensure the freedoms we hold dear.

Today, I want to share what we’ve been living with for nearly six weeks: deerfly season in South Georgia. It hits hard around May 1 and lingers for six long weeks.

Although elephant skin is considered thick, it’s no match for the deerfly’s double, blade-like mouthparts that slice easily through skin, causing blood to pool on the surface. Only females bite—using sponge-like mouthparts to lap up the exposed blood. Their bite hurts, not only from the slicing action but also from their saliva, which contains anti-coagulants to prevent clotting.

Thankfully, while painful, the bites pose no disease risk to the elephants. The flies are most active during the first two hours after dawn and again two hours before dusk. They’re drawn to large, dark, moving objects—unfortunately, elephants fit that description perfectly. Even when standing still, their constant ear and tail movements make them prime targets.

No non-toxic commercial product exists to prevent deerfly bites, but I’ve discovered something that works fairly well: Irish Spring soap. I buy it in liquid form and mix it in a two-gallon sprayer. Each morning and late afternoon, I spray a thick coat on Tarra and Bo. Apparently, the flies are no fans of its fragrance. Interestingly, Mundi—whose African elephant skin is thicker than that of Asian elephants—rarely suffers bites.

All of us at ERNA have observed a pronounced change in elephant behavior during this time of biting flies. Bo, Mundi, and Tarra tend to stay near mud holes, coating their bodies in protective mud. And instead of sheltering under trees, they favor open fields—flies prefer wooded areas, so the elephants wisely avoid them.

Yet this challenging season brought a beautiful, unexpected blessing. For the past six weeks, Tarra has remained close to Bo and Mundi, spending hours socializing, sharing mud wallows, and grazing side by side. Rather than disappearing every few days to explore the heavily wooded areas of the back 750 acres—as she typically would—Tarra stayed wherever Bo and Mundi were.

Thanks to our EleCam surveillance system, we saw that it was Mundi who initially pursued Tarra, repeatedly seeking her out. Tarra responded positively. Instead of wandering off alone, she chose to stay—grazing, bathing in mud, and napping with her companions.

Of course, Bo and Tarra were already close, as were Bo and Mundi. But now, they have become a true threesome—calm, content, and deeply connected. On several occasions, we’ve watched Mundi walk away after time spent with Tarra, and rather than remaining behind, Tarra followed—eager to continue their shared adventures.

This new bond brings us immense joy, knowing how much it means to Bo, Mundi, and Tarra. Their growing companionship is a powerful reminder: even in the most uncomfortable of seasons, connection, healing, and happiness can take root.