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.