Far be it for me to complain about mud. Mud means the snow is melting, beginning the smooth sailing into spring, right? I’m ready. But, if the roads are any indication, we’re in for a bumpy ride.

In New England, it’s long been recognized that mud season is like a rite of passage into spring. And nobody sees mud better than those who live on a farm. Growing up, come spring, I’d watch the horse pastures turn into gushy mud pits, and my horse would get down and roll in the mud. Soon, I’d grab the shedding blade and brush off piles of hair and dried mud. A cloud of mud dust would fill the air, and a beautiful animal would emerge from beneath. Spring was all around, and mud was part of it. We couldn’t wait for it to dry out enough so that we’d be able to drive through the fields without getting stuck.

In recent years, dare I say that I’ve been a little spring-mud deprived? At Higgins Beach, where we live, our small beach properties don’t lend themselves to much spring mud. Up until last year, I hadn’t thought much about what I had been missing – that is, until I paid a visit to the Nahelia’s farm in west Scarborough. I went out to meet their horses. To get to the barn, and their house, I had to walk on wood planks. Observing them doing their farm work brought back many memories of the springs I knew so well growing up.

Once mud season passes, glorious green pastures follow. It is the beauty that everyone is in awe of. And when we see it, we often forget what we went through to get there. Or could it be that we appreciate it that much more because it’s been a long, messy, winding road coming?

These days mud appears to be in. Spring magazine publications and mailers have me drawn to spa treatments that include mud baths – my horse was onto something. Of course, modern mud seems a lot more glamorous than farm mud, but it’s mud just the same. Personally, I cannot envision myself slathered in mud. But these spa treatments promise that a beautiful glorious you will emerge and that somehow life may be a little easier.

At Higgins Beach this year, we’re more than making up for the many lean years of spring mud. All winter a work crew has been putting in a new storm drain. A large hole dug each day has made its way the entire length of Greenwood Avenue. But Greenwood Avenue, it turns out, isn’t where it should be. So, the storm drain line has ended up going onto homeowners’ front lawns. I’ve been living right in the thick of the backhoes, dump trucks, road cones, blasting and beeping. This is messy business, and it’s getting even messier as the spring thaw begins. Now, the work crew has begun heading down Ocean Avenue – the main drag in to the beach. There’s plenty of stop-and-go traffic, and it’s a messy, bumpy ride these days.

Last week, I took a walk down Greenwood Avenue and was absolutely shocked at the scope of the project that has chopped down trees, carved through lawns and gardens and completely dug up the road. It’s a mess. Those familiar with the project, though, assure that it will be beautiful when it’s done. And, based on my observing of many mud season pasts, I believe this to be true. Like a new you who emerges from a mud bath, a new Higgins Beach will emerge, too.