What would the wildflowers say as their seeds lie germinating in the frozen earth, under the snow, waiting what seems like an eternity before fruition? Would they remain positive in their thoughts of the promise of Spring in a few months, or would they worry about all of the diversity in our beautiful world?

Just like the buried seeds of wildflowers, I find myself tending to hibernation as the first snow arrives to cover up the tasks that need tending, even after my own warnings to get things done before the snow flies. The daylight becomes shorter, and the sun suddenly becomes shy.

A...