I have had to be away away from the cabin unexpectedly these past few days and so have not been able to post. Having just got in late this evening, and with heavy snow in tonight’s forecast, I thought I would share one of my favorite winter poems. The picture above was taken at the Village on Pigeon Lake just a few weeks before Christmas.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

by Robert Frost 

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.