Mud Season

It's here. The snow melted with alarming rapidity (at least for those living near flowing rivers or owning homes with no sump pumps) over the past couple of days.  When I left for work yesterday, the pasture and much of the backyard was still snow covered with the occasional, small grass patch peaking through here and there.  When I returned home 9 hours later, the snow was almost completely gone from both.  The only sign of snow remaining were the large banks near the edges of the driveway, and the random ice floes scattered about.  That and LOTS of pooling and streaming water, and mud.

Mud season had arrived.  For those of us who are aesthetically minded, it's a difficult couple of weeks.  It is the dark abyss between the purity of snow and the glorious green-ness of late spring.  At our house it means smellier than usual chicken yards (conjure the smell of wet, rotting pine shavings, chicken poo and that earthy mud smell and you'll get what I'm talking about), and floors caked in muddy dog prints.

Despite that, I can't help but smile.  The sun is shining, the air is warmer, the snow is almost a distant memory and I think I can safely say that we will not experience a water shortage this summer -- no matter how dry and hot July and August get.  This wet, soggy expanse of mud and streaming water translates into a full well and happy, happy plants.