It’s hot outside and this past week we celebrated Christmas in July. The heat and unofficial holiday both have me wishing for cooler weather. With that in mind, I dug up this old post from the wayback machine on March 5, 2016. Since 2016 I have not become any more of a poetry fanatic but I still have the few poems I love. This was the only post I ever wrote around a poem and it will probably remain that way. I did update some of the photographs to ones I have taken in the snow since 2016. My snow hikes have certainly increased in volume since then and my photography skills have also greatly improved.
At any rate, enjoy this old post from just over 6 years ago.
I’m by no means a poetry connoisseur, but Robert Frost’s “Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening” has always been a story I can identify with.
I have on many occasions stopped by the woods on a snowy evening, for no reason other than to watch the snow fall. There is just something so peaceful and calming about falling snow that no other weather can match. Now, in this sweltering summer heat, those memories and these photos remind me of cooler, quieter days.
Below, enjoy a photographic winter journey narrated by Robert Frost’s “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening”.
“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.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To 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.
