Flickr / Jamie Holly
The great poem “The Waste Land,” by T.S. Eliot, begins with these lines: “April is the cruellest month, breeding / Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing / Memory and desire …”
Home on the Range
"One of my favorite sights begins as a line of dark shapes in the woods moving towards the clearing."
Susan Hand Shetterly, Room with a View
"In this strange new heat come new species, and some of the life we know slips away."