Oh, mud. I love you. I love your fudge-brownie color. I love your smell -- that mix of dirt, mulch, water and hope. Hope that Spring will, in fact, ever return.
There is not a tiny spot of mud visible anywhere at my house, because it's all several feet deep in crusty snow. But if I'm nowhere around here? You can bet on finding me at Kid 4's buddy's house, on my knees, nose to the ground, happily inhaling mud.