Art Drop #22: A Cure for Mud Season

Shake off winter for a minute and walk into spring.

Temperatures soar, snow melts, runoff pours down mountainsides, and our driveway turns into gravel soup. We’re having our first taste of “mud season” and it is unsightly.

Mud season seems like a theme right now, not only in our new environs of Western Massachusetts but perhaps more broadly in our society or at the very least it is playing out in my mind. We’re slogging along and what seemed solid and reliable is shifting under our feet. Knowing that it is a time of transition is no great comfort. At least here in the Berkshires there really is a gorgeous spring that awaits us, but we can only get there after going through mud season.

If there are hidden delights of mud season, I have yet to discover them so excuse my impulse to press fast forward and look desperately for a portal to spring. Crocuses are blooming back in New Jersey so my inner clock has been looking for signs of spring—any signs—here in Massachusetts. I’m hearing a perceptible shift in birdsong and seeing the hours of daylight lengthen and expand – but as for a beacon of springtime, there is nothing quite like a greenhouse:

Would you like to come inside with me? Shall we time travel into the future to the days of daffodils, tulips, and heady hyacinths? Maybe you too need a break from your own personal mud season and this could be the antidote you didn’t know you needed. We can explore color, shape and light and unexpected pairings as we look and discover within this small but overflowing greenhouse at Berkshire Botanical Garden in Stockbridge, MA.

Let’s go inside and feel the warmth. The sun is almost too bright but how dare we complain? We unzip our jackets and settle our eyes on a mix of bulbs and succulents and cacti and citrus and plants we think we might know the name of, but probably don’t.

Hard work has gone into the tending and growing and timing and arranging of these plants to come into harmony just for us. Sheltered from cold, wind, and an interminable to-do list, the least we can do is linger and notice and appreciate and observe.

The longer we stay, the more we see, and even plants that aren’t popping with color attract our attention all the same. Something about these plants and pipes just sing, don’t they?

I’ll close with this fever dream of spring – it is coming!

Art Drop #22

For this month’s art drop we are going to disburse some springtime out there to those that need it. We’re doing pay-what-you-want for these little 5 x7” prints – grab them before they wilt! Larger sizes are also available if you need to visually dive in to a bigger print. We would love to send some springtime out to you, wherever you may be.

This is a limited release, with these photography prints only available through March 15, 2025 and no further production of this work for at least a year. To learn more, snag a 5 x 7” print, or request a larger size click the button below to visit the art drop page on our website.

Thank you for joining us on this foray into spring. Until the next time...

Diana & Tom

---

---

Support

We don’t paywall our work here, so if you enjoy what we do it would mean a lot if you supported our newsletter in some way. Consider becoming a paid subscriber or perhaps make a one-off tip via Buy Me A Coffee, or Strike if you’d prefer to support us with Bitcoin. Better yet, add some art to your space with a print from our Permanent Collection or an art drop. Just the simple act of liking this post, commenting, forwarding it on, recommending it to others – it all helps and we really appreciate it.