I grew up down a dirt road. I remember muddy springs when we couldn't drive all the way up. Crunchy frozen puddles on morning walks to the school bus. The sight of pussy willows on gray days. The rush of water in the creek once again. Sending sticks through the culvert, waiting for them to come through the other side. How exciting that was!
My parents still live down a dirt road. All three of us daughters have settled for a decade or better with our families - down dirt roads. Looks like my brother might be the one to break tradition & live on pavement. The rest of us will have dirty cars for life. :)
We share our dirt road with a few good neighbors. Plenty of deer. And horses, as you may see from the hoof tracks. We almost always know if the mail has come yet, indicated by the freshness of the tire track left by the mail box.
Our neighbor, who has lived on this road for nearly 70 years, recalls many spring stories; Driving her jeep in the mud with the ladies on the way to Sunshine Club. Years when the road washed clear away. Years when they were stranded until mud season passed. When "mud season" was an observed break from country schools.
It's safe to say, Spring may not be the most desirable time to live on a dirt road.
But it's certainly a memorable part of it. :)