Judging from today's weather, you might not think warmer days are "right around the corner." Even tomorrow is forecast as cold and windy. March went out like a lion - a soaked, shivering, disheveled lion. Technically, it's spring, as hard as that is to believe, but spring has always been a fickle, transitional time, as in the old rhyme about "March winds, April showers, and May flowers."
T.S. Eliot said, "April is the cruelest month," but I disagree. It's not so much cruel as confused. It flounders around a bit, trying to find itself, with false starts here and there. In so doing, it can give us false hope. I'm sure April is sorry for any disillusionment it causes. It means no harm; it just can't help itself. It's certainly not cruel, not intentionally anyway. The title of "cruelest month" should go to February, with its nasty storms and brutal winds, or to August, with its relentless heat and suffocating humidity. A constitutional amendment permanently banning those two months could easily be ratified.
Once we slog through the coming onslaught of precipitation, we'll be wading knee-deep in a flood of flowers and greenery. e.e. cummings wrote that spring is "mud-luscious" and "puddle-wonderful." Paul Simon sang it's "when streams are ripe and swelled with rain." So, ready or not, here it comes - right around the corner, even if that corner is half a mile away.
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