April’s Cruelty in the Wasteland

 April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. (from The Wasteland by T.S. Eliot) The sun is hidden behind thick, dark clouds. A cold rain has been falling all day. I didn't know this, however, until I crawled out of bed this afternoon and asked Susan how the day was. "Not good." She said. An understatement. Cruel is more like it. Eliot could have been standing on my deck when he wrote these lines; breathing in the nascent scent of lilacs along with the stink of liquid manure; envisioning unspoken hopes and mislaid dreams floating on the surface of ruddy lawns. April has indeed been a cruel month. Look at the weather. Devastating floods along the Missouri River. Tornadoes in the Southern US, an earthquake in Indonesia, a cyclone in Mozambique causing over 1,000 cases of [...]