The sun is up. (This is the title line of the book I taught both children to read when they were four.) Rooftops are white, as are cars parked in driveways. The past few days snowflakes have poured down and then danced around. I catch myself watching out the window. I don’t linger long…too much to do, too much on my mind, too much up in the air… life is like the snowflakes bobbing around and up and down. Mostly down. And I’m reminded of Robert Frost and a poem that always gives me a pinch in the chest. Because we should all allow ourselves the time to stop and stand still and watch and take in, for all of life can go by and leave us empty if we don’t.

“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 sounds 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.


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