We took our first walk of the season this afternoon. Never knew I’d be so glad to see mud again.

Of course this meant rummaging around the closet for the sneakers we exchanged for winter foot gear back in October. I always forward to feeling like my feet are about ten pounds lighter than they have been for the past 5 months. Especially since it’s coming up on 30 years past the last and only time I was 20.

I have to admit that the sensation is more appreciated every year.

Out the door, down the driveway we went. Left at the sidewalk (watch that puddle, Love). Carefully time the approach to the massive lake of melt water lovingly rubbing up against the curb to the rhythm of the oncoming cars. A cold, melt water shower would put a damper on our walk for sure.

Around the corner and up the hill towards the high school fields (returning the hellos to the crows as they raucously wing by) and round the curve and down the hill towards our path at the railroad tracks we go, checking out the dog tracks in the mud at the edge of the sidewalk (the cocker spaniel says I? The long haired dachshund says She.).

Crossing the road to the path across the railroad tracks, taking just enough time to walk the rail to prove to ourselves that we still can. As usual, I fall off first.

Pick our way through December’s snow and the boggy grass, across the basement floor of a building that no longer exists and back to our road (look, the wreath on the auto body shop is still green …sort of. Well, more ‘sort of’ than green I guess).

Past the vacuum cleaner busily rooting out boot droppings from the floor mats, across the road that took us up the hill (timing the cars plowing through the lake once again) and onward towards home.

Down the driveway and into the back door (watch the cats don’t get out now) and so comes the end of our first walk of the season.

Mud, salt, puddles, lakes,crows, bogs and more mud. Wasn’t that a wonderful walk, Love?