Remnants of Spring

I really start looking forward to the return of warmer, sunnier weather around this time of year.  Our snow has melted (for now) and the earth around me seems barren and dead.  I count down the days until the miracle of life begins to manifest itself amongst the lifeless remnants of a season long gone.

My How They Both Have Grown

As I was sorting through my thousands of pictures look for some inspiration for my next blog post, I stumbled upon some this precious photo and couldn't help but share it.

It is not posed, it is not perfect.  It's a simple snap shot that captures a tender relationship forming between a small boy and a loving, patient older cousin - a moment that took place years ago and would have been forgotten without this image's still reminder.

It reminds me of the simple things that we overlook in our daily life.  The things that are so wonderful but often quickly forgotten.  How fortunate we are to have the technology to capture these moments and to once again feel the gratitude of a forgotten moment simply by viewing a photo.

Whose Woods These Are I Think I Know

One of the few things I remember from grade school is being assigned to memorize the poem Stopping by Woods on a Snow Evening by Robert Frost.  I was in eighth grade and the assignment was daunting.  I did not like poetry and was terrified of having to recite the poem to my entire class.

After much complaining, my patient mother listened to me repeat the poem over and over.  As I begin to envision the scene that was being painted with the words, I grew a love for the poem that lead to a love of may other works by Robert Frost.

I've always wanted to capture the beautiful images this poem paints in my head.  This collection of photos is just the beginning of bringing to life the beauty that the tired traveler saw.  It was something so wonderful that despite the many miles still left in his journey, he took a small moment to stop and remember.

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 farm house 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.

Beautiful Winter

It's sometimes hard to remember on days like today that winter is beautiful despite all the cold.

City Slickers

I ran into a bunch of "City Slickers" just bumming around.  They were kind enough to let me take some photos of them.