"April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land," wrote T.S. Eliot in his 1922 poem "The Waste Land."
But then a quick passing thunderstorm nipped the budding branches of the maples and oaks and, perhaps even the lilacs as well. Snapping off nascent green growth, sending it crashing to the ground to wither and die long before the summer suns.
April is the cruelest month.