Arboretum

Once again, my shoes and pants are coated with mud. You can tell what season it is by monitoring my clothes. In the spring, mud and grass. In the summer, grass and dirt. In the autumn, mud and leaves. In the winter, mud. So if you ever forget what season it is, just look at my pants, you'll figure it out in no time.

This morning, the mud came from the Washington Park Arboretum, across from the U-District. I'm starting to get used to mud, although it was a bit stickier than usual this morning. The flowering trees were in bright array:

The Arboretum in all of its tranquility and splendor.

These plants are coming up everywhere. I am not sure what they are called (I haven't found them in my book yet) but they're pretty widespread in wet, muddy areas. They're a bit odd-looking, but I think they're cool:

The morning's calm was briefly interrupted (shattered?) by a group of kids on a field trip. They looked like they were in first grade, or maybe second. Our paths didn't really cross until a time when I was taking a closeup picture of a flower, and heard a soft shuffling noise behind me. I turned around to see a little boy, who looked up and simply said, "Oh." I said hello, he said hello back, and he skipped off to his class. As the kids passed, two girls straggled behind in the rear. They were beating their feet into the ground chanting, "Mud! Mud! Mud!" Other kids, already in the distance, were exclaiming such comments as "I found a trail! I found a trail!" They tried to exhort their admirably patient adult chaperones to extend their park visit, to no avail.

It was good to know that someone was enjoying the park as much as I was.