By Nona Estrin
It’s March, and from the heart of winter, comes spring. Today the sun is hot. Last night’s snow starts to melt, falling in splats each time a breeze stirs the air. The snow degrades, slowly shrinking into a denser pack. A male cardinal sings, the local turkey flock fills the morning with squawks and plaintive peeps. On nights that it doesn’t snow, by dawn the tracks of wild creatures, not much seen this winter, crisscross the land— skunks, raccoons, foxes, fishers, coyote, and hares, intertwined with the spring’s struts of ruffed grouse.