In the horse world, and all worlds primarily set in the outdoors, there is a fifth season. It falls between winter and spring, often stretching well into the spring.
It’s called Mud Season, and this year it seems to have arrived a little ahead of the calendar.
All that moisture-laden snow covering the ground in late January and early February has yielded under the pressure of fifty and sixty degree days, first to lakes and now to gooey, sloppy mud.
And yeehaw, it is a slippery, dirty mess.
The horses are caked with dried mud, my car–as you can see from the photos–is splattered with mud, and my clothes and boots are the same.
I know we’ll have more snow and frozen ground yet this season.
It is after all only mid-February in Colorado. I never thought I’d find myself saying this, but I think I will welcome it!
Mud season isn’t exactly my favorite time of year. But I keep repeating the mantra of the parched west: Be thankful for the moisture.
And I am.