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.
My favourite poem, by Robert Frost of course.
Happy New Year. I got up early Saturday and walked through the Delaware woods while they filled up with snow. Let’s hope that 2018 brings more knowledge about our fragile environment, with more love and a lot less hate.
Between the woods and frozen lake… My photos, hope you enjoy.