Few words evoke a lack of enthusiasm quite like Mud Season, nine letters that really mess with a north country photographer's head. And like it or not, here we are. For those of you reading this who might not look at a change of seasons in quite the same way, here are the facts. Each year, pristine mounds of snow give way to rotting, decayed shadows of their former selves. A bleak brown harshness emerges from under soft sparkling blankets of quiet. The earth warms and once frozen ground becomes a quagmire of mush. There is virtually nothing worthy of a photographer's talents or efforts, nothing to capture that might lift a spirit or place a smile on someones face. Or is there? Birds return, sap flows and nature seems to know when our spirits need a boost. Just when we think we can't stand another mud puddle, new life breaks free.
