Today a number of things happen. It’s April Fools’ Day until noonish. Passover begins at sundown. And the Sap Moon is full at 10:12pm tonight, making tonight’s moonrise (at sundown) the closest rise to full.
It’s also Wednesday and the first day of National Poetry Month, which is a fine excuse for bouncy poetry…
April Fools’ Day
There is no agreement on the origins of April Fools’ Day. Nearly every story has at least one fatal flaw. The oldest reference, a quote from Chaucer’s Nun’s Tale, turns out to be a mistaken translation. Some thought that this derogatory name was given to those bumpkins who, after New Year’s Day was rationally set to January 1st, still celebrated the new year on Lady Day, with the week of celebration closing on April 1st — except that the name unambiguously precedes the calendar reforms that placed New Year’s Day on January 1st. Some believe that this is the day that Noah sent a dove out on a fool’s errand to find dry land before the waters had receded, but that tale doesn’t explain the mischief associated with the day. Others believe the day marks victory in battle — and therefore ignominious defeat of those other people, but stories of this type don’t explain why all the Others also have this day in their calendar.
The French and Italians think that the day is associated, not with the beginning of the new year, but with the end of the old, specifically the last day of Pisces on the vernal equinox. In both French and Italian, the day is called some variant of “April fish day”. The common prank for this Poisson d’Avril is to stick a picture of a fish on someone’s backside. This is the ancestor of a joke that was popular in American high schools of the 1950s or so. Tape a sign that reads “kick me” on someone’s back and let loose on the hapless victim. The April Fish was similarly abused until he discovered and removed the fish. This might actually be rooted in antiquity, though there is no particular reason it should be associated with April or the New Year. However, as the early Christians used a stylized fish to not-so-secretly identify themselves, tacking a fish onto a person was inviting all the calumny that Romans visited on that persecuted sect. Still… abuse of Christians was perennial — and usually far more grave than schoolboy aggression. So that origin story is also a bit of a stretch.
Scotland has possibly the most elaborate tradition. They call it Huntigowk Day, or hunt the gowk day, gowk being the cuckoo, a common euphemism for foolish folk. Some in the UK have interpreted this hunting of the cuckoo too literally and have made a national game of listening for the first cuckoo calling in the springtime. But originally, hunting the gowk meant playing pranks on the gullible. The most common of these was to ask the mark to deliver a sealed message, always implying that the message is begging the recipient for urgent help. Those who receive the message may or may not be in on the prank, but they don’t have to be part of a conspiracy because the message actually reads “Dinna laugh, dinna smile; hunt the gowk another mile”. The recipient reads this request and then explains to the fooled that they can’t give help without the assistance of someone else. Another false plea for help is dispatched to another recipient — who reads exactly the same message. The fool is sent all over the countryside. This only ends if he wises up and opens the seal (given that he can read, which was not always the case before the 20th century), or someone takes pity on him and stops the chain, or the clock strikes noon…
… because in nearly all April Fool traditions, all pranks must end by noontide. Why this must be so is not at all obviously comprehensible within any of the foolish traditions. It’s just another mystery of the day, I suppose.
What I find most mysterious is why anyone would enjoy these pranks. Most are rather mean. Very few are all that clever. And if we know to expect capers on April 1st, then an April practical joke doesn’t even have the element of originality or shock. April Fools’ Day becomes simply another bit of annoyance or abuse to endure — and carte blanche to those who get their jollies from the pain of others. I get sort of disdainfully sneery on 1 April… probably not an endearing quality either, but…
So, here’s a happier way to celebrate the day…
The April Fool
The April Fool
awoke at dawn
with nothing in his head,
and with a smile
and lusty cry
he sprang up from his bed.
He donned his cap
and grabbed his sack
to see what was about,
and into April’s
chilly morn
he boldly ventured out.
To market fair
he turned his feet,
but ‘ere he had gone long,
saw neighbor
looking doleful
and stopped to ask what’s wrong.
Said neighbor
to the April Fool
“I’ve task I can’t fulfill —
a message
of importance
delivered o’er the hill.
But I have other
pressing needs
and so am torn in two.”
Then said the Fool,
“I’m not engaged.
I’ll take your note for you.”
The neighbor grinned
and said, “That’s fine!” —
and clapped him on the back.
“Just o’er the hill,
you’ll see the place.
Just there beside the track.”
The Fool, he went
and found the place
and knocked upon the door.
And when the yeoman
read the note, to Fool
he said, “There’s more.”
The yeoman said
“I can’t comply.
I’ve naught for this request.
Please, go along
to yonder house
and give them this behest.”
So pliant Fool
did as was asked,
took note from door to door.
And yet each time
the note was read,
was sent to yet one more.
The morning waned,
the hours grew long,
yet task remained undone.
He trudged along
with weary feet
‘neath balmy spring-tide sun.
Just when he thought
it’d never end
— he’d started seeing double —
a man looked up
from missive read
and thanked him for his trouble.
Now tired Fool
turned aching feet
back to his own front door.
All morning thoughts
of wandering
tempted him no more.
He dropped his sack
and tossed his cap
and, rubbing throbbing head,
— though noontide sun
still brightly shone —
the Fool went back to bed.
A Full Moon Tale for the Full Sap Moon
The Sap Moon is full at 10:12pm. If fortune is smiling on you and the weather is fine, go watch the moonrise and send warming Sappy thoughts north. And now, here is my favorite Sap Moon tale…
The lethargy burned away in the growing light. The ice receded from the brook and darting silver minnows sparkled in the waters instead. Birds called from the wind-tossed pines, intent on home-making. Bold bloodroot and the first shy buttercups opened white and purple faces to the dawn. Time for the awakening.
She ambled from tree to tree with her pail. Third time for the day. Perfect sap weather, bright sun warming the buds, then an overnight plunge back into winter. But it was ending, she could tell. The buds were opening. Soon there would be peepers chorusing in the bogs. No sap after the frogs sing. She would collect as much as she could today. Maybe tomorrow. After that, maybe not.
The village had collected enough. They would begin boiling it down at the full moon. She guessed there would be plenty of sugar for her people and still many more boxes to trade. She hoped the coastal people came with their seal pelts. She needed to make a new pair of leg coverings for each of the twins. And her winter robe was worn so thin it might be good as a storage bag if she stitched it shut, but it did not do much to keep the cold off her shoulders. A cake or two of sugar would mean a warmer winter.
She brought her pail back to the village and poured it into the barrel. Then she went back out to look over her snares. As the sap flow slowed, planting season approached. She’d laid out traps around the clearing, hoping to irritate the garden marauders and maybe catch something good for the pot with the same snare. She’d brought in a few rabbits, a porcupine and a very skinny woodchuck. In the lean spring months, none of them were good eating, but meat was meat. And not a great deal of effort to get it either. She thought there were fewer tracks around the clearing now. Perhaps they’d leave the seedlings alone. Still, the twins would be put on watch again this year. They were irritating to everybody, even the crows kept their distance.
Nothing in the traps, but a doe and twin fauns walked through the clearing while she was checking. That would need to be fixed. Deer would eat through the whole garden. She didn’t like hurting infants, but she couldn’t let them learn to eat from the village garden either. They’d been using this plot too long, she supposed. It was time to move on and let the birches and maples return. But they’d make do for one more season. Maybe put more children out here.
She returned to her village and picked up the grinder. She had some dried marsh roots that she pounded together with acorns and the last of the woodchuck meat. She worked the mash into round cakes and set them to cook on slate stones by the fire. As the meal cooked, she absentmindedly wove the marsh grasses into sunshades for the twins. Her fingers knew the motions; she could think on the deer problem.
Perhaps she should have the twins gather all the hunter scat they could find. They did seem to have a talent for finding it. Not always with intention. But there was that cat prowling around the maple wood over the winter. Deer hated that smell. Well, who wouldn’t? She hated the smell also. Her boys didn’t seem to care. They came home from adventures reeking more often than not.
That would have to do for now. After the sugar boil, she would start looking for a new place to garden.
To think on…
Today is the full Sap Moon. It is also the beginning of April which has a folk etymology that ties it to ideas of “opening”. So that is my idea to think on today.
©Elizabeth Anker 2026
By My Solitary Hearth 