A little Frost in an Arizona snow

The poetry is below. I included it here partly because it describes exactly how I often feel in my travels but mostly because I want to impress my bride who has a degree in English. :)

While it was 80 degrees in OKC, these were the scenes 3 weeks ago near Payson, AZ, in the Sitgreaves National Forest. The last picture is the state highway just outside the forest and leading up to Holbrook, AZ.

The area is quite remote and the forest service roads back into the woods, more so  In fact, try as I might, I couldn't hear....anything. It was dead silent and it was magnificent! When was the last time you heard absolutely nothing - not a clock ticking, a refrigerator running, or a car passing by?

I'm no poetry analyst, but some have surmised that the subject in the poem is taking in his great scene, fully tempted to stay longer.  Painfully aware of all the obligations that awaits him at his destination, he knows the moment must be brief because obligations await and many hours stand between him and his next rest.



Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Eve

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.


Robert Frost