Snowfall may be a routine event in some parts of the world but here in Ireland it is still noteworthy news. This morning I woke up to a changed landscape , crisp underfoot and dazzling to behold ! As Deirdre observed in a comment this sudden whitening of the place has lifted spirits considerably (unless you’re planning a journey!) and so especially for her and anyone else whose heart is cheered by snow, here is a poem on the subject from Robert Frost. ~GOSh.~
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.