It’s typical late-winter bi-polar weather, and, while it’s only March, I thought this was appropriate:
April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire...
This is, of course, the opening of T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland and is the only part most people (myself included) really get. There is a good annotated version online here, if you’re feeling scholarly. (Should have majored in English…)