The mud here is wonderful.

It has been too long since I have spent much time in mud. After years spent in cities, surrounded by the works of men, it is good to come back to the earth.

When I was small, I spent many long summer afternoons next to the creek. I would dip into the clear icy water, then roll in the hot sand until my body was well coated, like breaded fish. When I felt that I had baked enough, it was time to jump back into the water, savoring the flowing coolness until I was chilled to the bone. Then I would hop back out, bread myself in sand again, and the cycle would continue, hot and cold, earth and water.

It is one of my favorite memories, but I would hardly dare mention this to my children; mud brings with it so much chaos. Fortunately for them (and unfortunately for the upholstery and the laundry!) they have discovered the wonders of mud just fine on their own.

They squish and squelch and revel in it, and then when the wonder has worn off, they shape and sculpt it, make it into something new.

And so the cycle goes on.

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