T.S. Eliot wrote:
April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Do you think he might really have meant March, but that April just sounded better?
Today's pictures are of the great meltdown and our creek flooding after the rain. Cruel indeed, but we need to get through mud season to reach spring.
No red-winged blackbirds yet. Last year at this time they'd been here a week. The snow is melting late. But at last it is melting.
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