Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, and Happy New Year
Ode to Robert Frost
(the photographer)
Robert Frost was not a young man (48)
when he wrote 'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening'. Nor was he
riding or for that matter walking, through the woods when the idea of
this famous poem evolved.
He was a thoughtful man, and dare I say, if he had been carrying a camera, when the idea popped up, he might well had become a photographer, as well as a poet. Robert conjured the idea of this poem, some say, as a conflict between nature and social obligations, that is the pull of quiet nature from the obligations of the societal drag on his writing talent, and his legacy. That could well be, but I like to think, that as photographers, we who are reading this, might as well place this poem in the annals of a beautiful scene, to be remembered for that alone.
He had been up long the night writing his longest work, 'New Hampshire', when as the sun broke, he suddenly, again as a photographer does, saw the light and took an opportunity to write what many consider his most memorable piece:
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.
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.
My guess would be, that had he been carrying a camera, (wouldn't that have been nice), to accompany his poem, that the image above, though darker perhaps, could have been the image he wanted.
And I might have rewritten it exactly the same, though I have rewritten it, in my own interpretation, it honestly did not come out any better, perhaps only more cryptic. Long live this poem exactly as it was written. Even though at this instant, that I write this, it has become public domain.
And just as we photographers don't like our works to be changed, I'm sure Robert would appreciate the same respect. Honor the creator's work, be it photographic or written.
And by the way, Happy New Year
And by the way, Happy New Year
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