Historically I’ve thrown April to the dogs, placing it in the “least desirable time of year” list with January, February, and March; the lowly New England winter months. Of course my list is by no means universal, but the big bad months of January, February, and March, are the regulars on most folks' list. Even so, I’m often surprised at the astute contemplation that goes into this very personal list; about why some months are more miserable than others. Sometimes I disagree. For instance, it always seems absurd when November and December make it, or the warm July and August summer months for that matter. November and December herald the first cool nights warmed by crackling logs in the fireplace, brisk walks through the woods, leaves whispering underfoot, perhaps stalking game as is my wont. And the peak summer months? Sure it can get a bit steamy and congested, but what beats evenings on the beach, or a warm breeze curling through the bedroom late at night? 
For me, April teeters on my lists’ proverbial fence, the others don’t warrant further consideration. But alas it always keeps company with the rag tag ruffians that kick off the new year. Many associate April with spring; with daffodils and pinkletinks, with rebirth. It’s these factors, along with those first days when one can finally smell the air again, that put April on the fence. But the trees are still very bare, it’s often cloudy with bone chilling breezes, the nights are cold, and we often stagnate in periods of burning rain. The ocean is a barren slate gray. All in all April’s a bit of a tease.
But more than cold rain or cloudy skies, April is sacrified to my list out of my disdain for the winter. It’s my way to thumb my nose at the dark angry days, to mock the winter bogeyman. Mocking anger was a handy tool I learned long ago.
For me, April teeters on my lists’ proverbial fence, the others don’t warrant further consideration. But alas it always keeps company with the rag tag ruffians that kick off the new year. Many associate April with spring; with daffodils and pinkletinks, with rebirth. It’s these factors, along with those first days when one can finally smell the air again, that put April on the fence. But the trees are still very bare, it’s often cloudy with bone chilling breezes, the nights are cold, and we often stagnate in periods of burning rain. The ocean is a barren slate gray. All in all April’s a bit of a tease.
