The sun was warm, but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day.
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You're one month on in the middle of May
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March.
I have taken this poem from King Arthur Flour's 200th Anniversary Cookbook because I found this page earlier today and like the information it gives. The introduction to making doughnuts continues by saying:
There are no better words than Robert Frost's in Two Tramps in Mud Time for conjuring up that sharp, sweet and temperamental season of early April in Vermont. One of the most exciting changes of this quickening season happens both unheard and unseen. With longer, warmer days but still freezing nights, those lifeless looking maple trees that dot the northeastern landscape turn into gigantic pumps, pulling gallons of water out of the thawing ground, mixing them with nutrients and sugars and sending them up and out to nourish buds that have been waiting patiently in a dormant state through the long New England winter.
Along with the new life pulsing throughout the North, you'll see "sugar houses" punctuating the hills, steaming away and transforming the precious spring sap of the Sugar Maple into maple syrup.
For those of you who have ever tapped a maple tree, you know what an exciting event this is. To drill a hole, hammer in a tap and watch those first drops of sap well up and spill out into your bucket make one look in wonder at all the trees in the landscape, knowing that, even though you can't see it, something quite miraculous is going on.