Walking in Woods on a Snowy Day

Beautiful snowy day.

We grabbed our cameras...

and strapped on our snowshoes.

Trail through the snowy trees.

Covered in a snow blanket.

Breaking trail.

Snow dog!

Natures own birdhouse.

Surprised the river was still open.

Heading back.

 

The quiet that surrounds us while deep in the woods never ceases to amaze me.  So peaceful.  Every now and again we could hear the chickadee's singing to us from the woods and the wind whispering in the trees. 

 

It always reminds me of Robert Frost's poem, 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.