Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shakeTo ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
~Robert Frost
This poem (one of the first I memorized) always comes to mind when I'm in the snow.
This morning, the sky and the ground and all that lay in between were the same white.We had a frozen fog...and it was quite amazing. Hadleigh pulled me to the living room window to show me a large, intricate spiderweb, outlined in frost. Incredible.
I love the quiet stillness, the blanketing of snow. Everyone and everything pauses.
Like my favorite line in the poem:
"The only other sound's the sweep of easy wind and downy flake."
3 comments:
lovely snow pics!
beautiful. we had a morning like that a few weeks ago, it was just magical. i love that you got pics of it!
Just beautiful! love your snow pics!
Post a Comment