In his poem, The Waste Land, T. S. Eliot refers to April as the cruelest month:
April is the cruellest* month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers....
Sorry Mr. Eliot, but in deference to your poem, I earnestly disagree.
In my opinion, April is one of the most hopeful months.
Spring rains and warmer temperatures encourage flowers and lush foliage like this on the north side of our house.
And while Autumn is my favorite season of the year, Spring is a very close second choice.
Is there anything cruel about catkins swaying in a spring breeze?
My only objections to the beauty of the Oak catkins is the abundance of acorns and leaves to rake in the Fall.
Otherwise, they delight me every April.
And Lily-of-the-valley which is just beginning to bloom. Soon a bouquet of those will perfume my room.
It is possible Mr. Eliot refers to the snowstorms and the severe weather warnings, including tornadoes, that go along with the month of April. Those seem insignificant on a day like today when you can spend a little time on the deck and come away with photos like these:
Yes! Baby goslings! Just as in past years, these are not the ones from the nest floating on the pond but one hidden in the reeds.
A far-away flash of blue and a quick snap of a Bluejay on a fir tree.
A sprig of the aforementioned Lily of the valley just beginning to open.
As well as my very colorful Iris that bloomed a few days ago.
I only quoted the first few lines of The Waste Land and really did not garner the idea of April being the cruelest month from the rest of the poem, but honestly, can you believe that this second month of spring can be the cruelest?
(* British English spelling of the word.)
"Spring has returned. The earth is like a child that knows poems." Rainer Maria Rilke
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