{stopping by woods}
*Scott and I made a special trip up into the mountains the day before we left Colorado. It was so peaceful up there. Scott spotted a little group of aspen up the hill. I stomped through the knee-deep snow to get some pictures. I could have stayed there a lot longer. I love this poem by Robert Frost.*
Stopping by 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.
