The Mud Angel

The Mud Angel

mpinwheel-daffodilA few years back my family and I rented a house atop of Cow Path Forty–What a winter!  It seemed to snow more in March that year than it did all season.  We watched as the plow piles in our driveway reached alarming heights.  And then it all began to melt…

Each day was another adventure as we maneuvered our way up and down our road, dodging the deepest of ruts.   We thought a lot about cows and demolition derbies, but nothing encouraged us more than the discovery made one day at the crest of our hill: 

a large sunshine-colored pinwheel was planted smack in the middle of the tiny pond that had formed in our road.

So deep was this rut that her plastic-petaled face survived for days without being crushed.  The sight of her buoyed us through all that brown…  with the promise of SPRING!

kelly salasin

The Season of Mud

The Season of Mud

Mud season

rises up

beneath us…

As the snows melt

and the roads soften

Driving begins to feel

–and sound–

more like surfing…

And walking

is even more

a delight!

Once solid,

the Earth

now moves

like a water bed

under my boot.

I count

61 trees down

between our land

and Neringa Pond

Chewed stumps,

the work

of resident




at the Birch

nearly two-feet round

bearing teeth marks–

Some overly confident

teenage beaver

no doubt,

whose bravado

blinds him to the distance

between this tree

and his den.


it will dive into the road

creating yet another


for our travels



the season



K. Salasin, 2010