Stopping By Woods on a Winter's 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.”
― Robert Frost

The picture is just a mile from my house in Armstrong, BC. and as a footnote I was teaching this poem to all my ESL classes last week here in Taiwan. They loved the pictures too. Many had never seen snow, certainly not like this!