Stopping By Snowy Woods...

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening (or morning as the case may be!)

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.

By Robert Frost - my hero!

Playing around with exposures whilst walking the dogs in a near blizzard this morning....is this the last of the snow?