March snow in Plymouth is the heavy kind — wet, dense, dropping in fat clumps off the hemlocks along Todd Hollow and settling on a driveway at what feels like twice its weight. That is the storm that separates plowing from wishing. The work is straightforward and physical: pushing driveways and lots open, shoveling walkways and entries, sanding and salting where meltwater refreezes by evening. Late-season storms come and go fast, so timing beats everything — clear it while it is still moving, before it sets up like concrete. Done right, the driveway is dark and wet by noon and winter has quietly lost another round.