"... To watch his woods fill up with snow."

Robert Frost spoke these words 90-some years ago, and I thought about it as I watched our woods fill with snow over the past 22 hours.  The yardstick shows 13 inches had fallen by about 8 a.m., and minutes after I snapped these photos the snow poured down so hard we couldn't see the ridge to our east.

Looking down toward the barn

Facing SE. That's not the sun, but reflection from camera flash on the inside of a sliding door.

Looking NE along the path I cleared for Sadie, who mired up to her hubcaps when she needed to be outside.

Here's what Robert Frost wrote in full:

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

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.