My awareness of mud puddles has heightened tremendously in the last few months.
Swamps, four-inch puddles–heck, even a small party of water droplets–I’m always on the alert to spot them before someone else’s little feet…and hands…and bottom…finds it. We have a little puddle we play in by our driveway, and as long as we’re not headed out the door it’s usually fair game.
I believe God made mud puddles for little kids. I played in them when I was little, too, as often as I was allowed (and probably a few times when I wasn’t).
Mud puddles are such a wonderfully diverse playtime experience: they splish, they splash, you can get dirty in them and rinse off in them (somewhat), you can throw rocks in them, you can float flowers across them (or stick-boats), and do whatever else your imagination beckons.
I am a staunch supporter of mud puddles.
I wonder how much more relaxed adults would be if we occasionally played in mud puddles. Get your toes wet, throw some rocks in, enjoy the versatility of Creation. (If you haven’t noticed yet, I’m also on an “anti-always-connected-to-electronics” kick.)
Mud puddling is my new outdoor hobby. What’s yours?
jess leigh hanna 
I loved mud puddling when I was a kid and as an older kid, too. I am long past overdue for a trip through a mud puddle memory. My favorite places were the puddles in my parents’ driveway. I loved climbing trees, walking in the shallow water warmed by the sun where the salt water met the sand. I love searching for heart-shaped rocks.
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