Most of us are well aware of the four seasons—winter, spring, summer and fall. Once I moved out to the boondocks, though, I became acquainted with a fifth season, affectionately referred to as Mud Season.
Mud Season can come more than once each year…and usually does. Typically, it is most fond of early spring and late fall, but this can certainly vary as temperatures fluctuate.
During this period of time, nothing is safe from the slurpy grip of the sludge of mud. Trucks and tractors get stuck, as do cattle, hogs and lambs. Entire chicken eggs become entombed in the muck and mire, and small hand tools can be buried only to resurface in the next torrential downpour. Even young children occasionally get bogged down to their boot tops and loudly plead for their older siblings or parents to rescue them. Any good mother or father will, indeed, come to their child’s aid—after some good-natured teasing and a snapshot or two to post on Facebook.
The good news is that Mud Season never lasts forever. This time of year, it is a harbinger of spring and all things fresh and new.
So, in spite of the additional laundry and extra mopping all of this brings, I genuinely and enthusiastically say, “Welcome, Mud Season”.