My father stopped by this afternoon. He complained about dizziness, and I asked him if he was troubled by the heat already.
"not the heat," he said. "Pollen". I should have guessed.
He has a tough time every spring, but this year has been the worst in a decade for him. The warm weather has made the birch unleash its pollen like a mist.
Here's the intended target. The female catkin of Betula pubescens. It doesn't look the least like a nose, though, does it?