LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW

Big snowstorm here in the northwoods yesterday. Had to drive back from a meeting two hours away, and the trees were frosted with snow, and looking quite lovely and tranquil. Unfortunately, the landscape was also dotted with day-glo billboards shouting, "State's largest adult superstore!" But anyway, it made me think of Robert Frost's poem. Another foot of snow is predicted for Sunday.

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.