Sorry, something about the thought of horses in December makes me reach for expressions from the era that brought us "Jingle Bells."
Since there are no horse activities this weekend (that I have found. Please correct me if I'm mistaken), let me deck the halls of your brains with a famous, seasonal poem that features a horse and even credits him with thought and curiosity.
How many of you dissected this poem in an English class somewhere in your past? If you did, just knock all that out of your head for a minute, and enjoy the picture Frost paints of a beautiful moment in winter that could very well have taken place here in the Twin Tiers.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
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| Photo Credits: Two Below Zero Blog |
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.
That's true, and I meant no offense toward English professors. As a former English major, I can still sometimes relish in the analysis of poetry. But my snarky 101 professor tried hard to ruin this simple poem, once upon a time, by making fun of both it and Frost as he guided us through its meter and rhyme. Somethings are best left to speak for themselves, depending on who else is doing the speaking.
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