Yesterday about 20 inches of snow fell on Poison Ivy Acres. It’s hard to judge the exact amount because the wind’s sculpting of the snowfall…some places it’s a foot deep, while in other areas the drifts are over three feet.

I’ve always said that I love a good snowstorm because it’s the only thing that stops everything these days…at least on a local level. Normally, you can find a store open every day of the year, and we can work, work, work all the time. But when the snow falls fast and deep, everything is closed and canceled.

That said, imagine my surprise when I find that I’m not too tolerant of the weather after all. Our driveway didn’t get plowed until 2 PM. What? I have to change my plans? I can’t see Mel and Mary today but need to rearrange my week and fit them in later? The last minute gifts I was taking to the post office? Not happening.

There are articles and book proposals to write, houseplants to water, gifts to wrap, and sweets to bake, but can I concentrate on any of that? No…all I can think about are the things that I can’t do.

It is the winter solstice, I say to myself…a time when I should be focusing on the paradox of embracing the darkest day of the year, and the point when light begins to return to the earth.

Oh….right. I guess I am. In recognizing that this snowfall is a gift, and as I fight that it also forces me to adapt and change, I embrace both the darkness and the return of the light.

A deep snowfall does more than stop commerce…it forces me to be accepting, flexible, and patient.

The snow drifts across the garden shed - we won't be able to open the door unless we shovel, or wait until the snow melts.