Mud and Sunshine
I live in a city where it rains a lot. In spite of the amount of rain, we don’t have any mud. I’m not talking about the puddles or wet bits of dirt at the side of the street. Or even the squishy paths in the park. I mean real mud. Where I grew up, several miles from the nearest paved road, we had mud. Deep enough to for a car to get stuck in or for a child (me) to get their boots stuck in while walking to the school bus. (So stuck that their mom had to walk out into the muddy lane to rescue them).
Maybe it’s these (fond?) memories that attracted me to this muddy field, south of the city. The beautiful sun surprised me on a day that was supposed to be socked-in with rain. The sunshine only lasted an hour or so before the dark clouds rolled in again. It was long enough for me and the kids to have some fun, trudging around in the mud.