I’ve always been enamored with this poem, from the very first time I heard it. I live in the woods, and when winter falls, the glisten of ice-coated branches and heavy white blankets covering the evergreens is not only breathtaking, but surreal. One understands the true meaning of Winter Wonderland.
I understand completely the poet’s love of the forest. I’m remodeling my writing office. When I approached my friend, an interior designer and artist for ideas (yes, I’m fortunate), she encouraged me with my idea for a literary theme. She paints landscapes on walls; and I am completely in awe, as I am unable to fashion a mere stick-person.
On the study wall is…you guessed it. A forest. A Victorian gaslight, and embedded in the picture, a la Bev Doolittle, the last few lines of the Frost poem, The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep.
I’m on the lookout for a real gaslight, as well as an old typewriter.
Wishing you warmth this winter. Forget school closings, snow tires and slick roads. Think…sleigh rides, sled rides and Robert Frost.
To help you stomach the cold, I’m giving away warm slippers, a mug and cocoa to sip while reading The Bride of Blackbeard. That way you will be prepared to face sunken ships in the freezing waters of the Graveyard of the Atlantic, the real life rescues of the Chicamacomico Life saving station…and of course, pirates. Just leave a comment to be entered.