Walk in the Park

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.

--Robert Frost

This was one of the first poems I ever memorized and to this day, xx years later, I still remember at least the first and the last parts of it. Which is pretty good, because I have a hard time remembering what I just had for dinner the night before.

Walking through the woods today was peaceful and quiet. Just the sound of my jeans rubbing at my ankles and the crunch of my boots in the snow. Occassionally I could hear the sound of the wind in the pine trees. So tranquil. Now I am watching the flakes swirl in the wind outside my window.

(written on Tuesday, January 20, 2009 the day of the actual snow)