My daughter says that every time it snows, she thinks of Robert Frost’s poem ‘Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening’ which is one of her favorites. Except, since we don’t live near any woods, rather than stopping to “watch the woods fill up with snow” she watches the streets fill up with snow.
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.
The first time it snows is always more exciting, though, isn’t it? I love to look out the window of my living room and watch as the world outside turns white. The snow looks so pure and pristine.
Here is the view from that window this morning, after the first proper snowfall of the season in Montreal, Canada.
On days like this one, I just want to curl up inside with a warm mug of coffee and a good book, and to lose myself in the story, glancing out the window occasionally to see if it’s still snowing. I just want to forget about all the work that needs to be done, like the cooking and the laundry. But, as Robert Frost writes, “I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.”