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In Alberta, April is the time when the snow melts, leaving behind the sand and gravel that kept the roads relatively safe. The grasses are brown; the leaves not yet emerging. And the litter that slowly accumulated over winter comes into view.

All the junk that winter had buried from sight emerges, as though just dropped today.

T. S. Eliot might have had something similar in mind when he wrote “The Waste Land” in 1922.  Here are the opening lines..

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.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

You can read the entire poem here.

Let us see what the warming weeks bring us this month.

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