So often it seems people rarely eat to taste. We consume food as nourishment, to rid ourselves of hunger pangs, and then it’s on to the next thing requiring our attention.
Living in Boston has taught me to be suspicious of cowardly March. As winter paws at its heels and spring serenades its sights, March lingers in spells of indecision. Wavers between days that boast sunshine and sweater-shedding warmth, and others who cry gray and wet storms.