It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold:  when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.
-  Charles Dickens 

For me, these are the best days to work on your yard!

A Late Walk, 

When I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.

And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words

A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.

I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you. 

-Robert Frost