Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

Pittsburgh - I've been thinking of Robert Frost quite a bit lately. His poem that appears below seems to me to be written for today, the shortest day (or "darkest evening") of the year.

I have been thinking more frequently about Frost mainly because of how The Road Not Taken applies more to my life lately, especially the part about two roads diverging in a wood and taking the one less traveled by. This will manifest itself in different ways now and in the future, and I'm looking forward to the adventure.

Anyway, I'm here for a few days before spending Christmas with my brother-in-law on Cape Cod. He lives in a group home, and with no immediate family left except for me and Evan I feel it's up to me to show that he still has family that cares for him. After last year's debacle with bringing him out to GJ, I felt it would be better to do the traveling this time, and I have other business on the Cape as well. I'll be back the Friday after Christmas. Promises to keep, miles to go before I sleep.

I drove around with Leslie last night, looking at Christmas lights at some of the more upscale properties in my home town and contemplating the changes in the area since I last roamed here on a daily basis. Changes, indeed.

Have a wonderful Christmas.


Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening - 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.