The Source: Mud Season
How to become increasingly covered in mud and look (and feel!) great doing it.
Just once, when Jesse and I were on tour, we played in Miami. All the people kept saying, “Is this your first time in Miami?” and then after an affirmative answer, “welcome,” with a knowing eye-sparkle. I have never forgotten that strange feeling of somehow not being in on the joke, but standing just on the threshold of it. (Jokes on me, we couldn’t stay the night and started towards the next city after the show—I guess I’ll never really understand Miami.)
Similarly, when we first moved to Maine, coming from Los Angeles, many people asked (knowingly, sparklingly, if a little irritatingly facetious), “Are you ready for winter?” Again, not really being in on the joke here, we started to get a little worried. We asked some people who seemed like they might soon pass as friends (affirmative), So is it really that bad?? Scrunched-up faces, they assured us that winter is fine, it’s mud season we would need to ‘get through’.
This was some new information. Turns out, a season exists after winter and before spring. There are no flowers, though there is the promise of them; there is no snow, or very little left. The thaw comes on quick and the hard, frozen ground becomes the consistency of watery play dough overnight. The roads are restricted from heavy vehicles because the ground under the asphalt is now soup. The dog tracks adorable widdle paw prints throughout the house. Everything is soft, wet, and extremely muddy.
It’s not a pretty season. Spring unfurls slowly here; less of a literal spring (boing!), more of the gradual unwinding of a forest fern. It’s a season of deep anticipation—it almost reminds me of Advent, if you participate in that tradition. Little rituals and signals and actions abound: Prepping and starting seeds, moving from wool to cotton, discovering all the things you’d left in the yard that have been tucked under the snow, feigning tidiness. Watching closely everyday to see what’s starting to pop up, ever so slowly.
Here, a collection of things1—some I have, some I’m admiring—that could make a mud season just a little more enjoyable.
Left to right, top to bottom:
K-Way Le Vrai Poncho, $220 | K-Way’s Le Vrai is classic and iconic, and yet the poncho is a wacky and exciting (to me) expression of their style.
Rototo Ear Flap Hat, $54 | What’s better than Rototo on your feet? Maybe—Rototo, beloved, collected Danish sock company, on your head.
Original Duckhead Umbrella, $42 | I own two umbrellas (impressive, right?). One is sort of a standard issue green I bought somewhere unimpressive—so unimpressive I cannot remember where. The second is this one, which was in my stocking (!) this year. This is obviously the first and only choice now, as it inevitably brings a delighted smile to my face.
Grundéns Sandhamn Fishing Hat, $43 | If you’re going to require a part of your body to say dry and spray-free, I would trust Grundéns to the task.
&Daughter Wexford Waistcoat, $455 | I am in my knit vest era. I don’t have this particular one, but I am loving the flexibility—key when the temperatures can range from the 20s to the 50s in a single day—of your arms being a different thing from your torso. I have even seen them styled with a short sleeved t-shirt, which we’re not ready for here quite yet, but you can bet I will be trying when it’s time.
Loam Nettle Balm, $12 | I am also in my nettle era because I simply cannot deal with another lost April due to tree allergies! I’ve been mainlining nettle sun tea, but frankly, I’d love to find more places to apply nettle. This balm seems like a good option. Nettle everywhere!
Himukashi Reversable Socks, $24 | Not only are these socks so colorful and fun and come in great colors, but because they are reversible we know that they possess multiple layers (3!) and therefore we know that, despite being fairly lightweight, they are [therefore] probably pretty darn cozy. Therefore, I would like them very much. Plus a lettuce edge?!
A Vida Portugal Teapot, €58 | Speaking of nettle, 10/10 would enjoy some nettle tea with local honey out of this bad boy.
Sneeboer x Piet Oudolf Trowel & Hoe Set, $124 | This one is for the heads.
Gardener’s Supply 8-Cell Soil Blocker, $40 | After a somewhat mycological experience with cow pots last year, I think soil blocking will be my seed-starting approach for 2025.
Hedgehog Shoe Brush, $119 | I personally have this shoe brush at home, but c’mon this hedgehog is about 10,000x cuter.
Sunhouse Craft Appalachian-Style Sweeper, $135 | The thing about mud season, and early spring most places, is that a lot of it is not about reaping what you sow—it’s not even really about sowing at all. It’s about cleaning up massive pile-ups of debris and dirt.
Ruggable Re-Jute Checkerboard Rug, from $169 | OK, I happen to have this rug in my mudroom because (a) it’s made from recycled materials and (b) is machine-washable, which is pretty great just about now. I formerly recommended the cocoa mats from American Floor Mat, but I have to say—had a real hard time cleaning them once mud season dried out.
Café Grazie Investment of a Lifetime, $??? | My pals Marcy and Marjory are opening a café and are running a campaign to help get their effort going. Each dollar spent now gives you 120% in credit to spend once the café is open (sometime this spring). If this season is all about getting everything just right and all ready for a glorious season of sunshine and rewards—investing in future baked goods (and coffee! and breakfast!) seems like a perfectly appropriate preparatory action.
Herb Garden Candle, $70 | I’m normally in the tobacco/cedar/musk/heavy/masculine scent pocket, but even I can admit that things are a little dank right now (not in a cool way) and probably need a counterpoint of herbaceousness or flowers or just anything a little ~lighter~.
Niwaki Adjustable Aluminum Rake, $35 | This is a very cool rake. Basically, the cross-bar there slides up and down, so you adjust the rake for different jobs and heft-needs.
Le Chameau Giverny Boot, $209 | French classics—closing in on their 100 year mark!—each one handmade and exceptional, built to last a long, long time.
Sheepskin Insoles, $19 | Rainboots are sort of these dark, hard, cold caverns that definitely are good at doing their job, but could be improved with a little shearling stepper, right?
Jane’s Seeds of Hope Pollinator Mix, $5 | A flower mix that all the bees and butterflies will go for, made in celebration of 40 years of the Jane Goodall Institute.
Copper Penny Boot Tray, $329 | OK, not the most thrilling note to go out on, but—if it’s muddy where you are, a boot tray is a real hero.
Some of the links are affiliate links and I may receive a small commission, should you buy the thing. Also! I’m playing around with this platform—everything present here is also listed in my storefront.