The Sweetness Of March
By Margot Russell In March, winter never really loosens its grip—not in Western New York. It just shifts its weight. One day the snow softens and slides off the roof in heavy sheets, the next morning it’s back again—hard, frozen, and stubborn as ever. The calendar says spring, but no one here believes it. Not yet. Still, something begins to change. You hear it first—the birds returning, tentative at first, like they’re not entirely convinced either. Then a warmer afternoon arrives, and for a moment, just a moment, you feel it—the possibility of something beyond all ...