As I passed between the quince and the blackberries, a large and buzzing insect flew into my beard. I thought it was a clumsy beetle, but you can't actually see whatever it is that is entangling itself on your chin. I swiped at the struggling thing a few times before I noticed the swaying paper-hall of the paper wasps. I swiped harder and ran.
Monica said that she guessed it was good I'd kept the beard an extra day, but the annoying thing still ought to go.