The Airport. A Snowstorm. A Poem. And a Traveler's Tale.

~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.
~Robert Frost~

Yup. The Girls had to travel yesterday in the biggest dang snowstorm you ever did see. Substitute "airplane," "airport," etc., for "woods" in this classic Frost poem, and you'll get the idea. Pretty, but also pretty aggravating. Remember...these are the kiddos who had to be rescued by Big Bear the Sunday after Thanksgiving!

Hope all of you Hearty Midwesterners and Northeasterners get dug out safely and successfully!