Maybe May

Who can tell these days where we are in the mish-mash of weather surrounding us? Snow and lessor hailstones in April, thunder and sky-electricity bringing in May, freezing continued in March and Feb. was lost altogether to warm breezes. Earlier times, we would blame all this on the Communists. Not now. The Greeks? No doubt. They know much about life and poetry, and how to stay out of a fight while threatening one. I like that. Tough-bluff. Weather also figures often in their literature, and in their daily lives.
Here's a thing writ on Tinos Isle, after seeing Mary's Holy Winds blow believers to their knees:

On their knees, in prayer, in pain?
Mary blesses penitents always

The winds of Tinos in January are fierce. The church there, the main reason for going there, demands that believers crawl up the slope from the dock as a show of their unworthiness yet keen desire nevertheless to be absolved of their countless sins. Anyone foolish enough to try to walk up gets knocked down by the gales off the sea. Once, on my rented 50cc, heading thru the countryside for the volcanic peak, I was lifted up and disposed next to a dove-cote, where I was instantly devoured by man-eating pigeons. Mary blesses always, however.