Waiting for Fall

I saw a picture of Cooke City, Montana on Facebook a couple of days ago.  It was beautiful.  It made me think about winter.  I have completely missed winter this year.  We moved to Tennessee last summer- just as fall was about to come- so I have had 11 straight months of summer.  Nine of which I have been pregnant.  It gets very confusing when you grow up with seasons, and suddenly it's summer all the time.  I keep waiting and waiting, and waiting for fall to come and it just doesn't.  It's very confusing- especially during Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and Valentines.  This "Winter"  the X-games were on TV- (a bunch of guys snowboarding) and I was thinking, "why in the world are they airing snowboarding on TV now?  It must be an old episode or something!"  And the other week as I was walking down the sidewalk watching the lizards scurry into the bushes I thought, "I wonder what the lizards do during the winter, do they hibernate?"  Ha. It really is hard to remember what time of year it is! I know some people would love summer all year long- but I'm not one of them.  I love seasons!!   I love every single one of them. Spring, summer, fall winter.

 But for now I want to talk about my friend winter.  Since I am a little lonely for it now.  I love to sit inside by a warm fire, with hot chocolate, reading a good book while it is snowing outside.  I mean, what is better than that!?  Or when it's late at night and your snugly and warm in bed and you can hear the wind howling outside.  Love it.  I mean just look at this picture!!
 

So, all this talk about winter made me think of one of my favorite poems.  I have been thinking about poetry a lot lately.  Every time I hold my baby I want to write poems about how beautiful he is.  I haven't had anything awe inspiring make it to paper.  So  I will share some of my favorite poems by Robert Frost.  It's funny they all happen to be about nature.  

This first one is my all time favorite. 

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening (1923)

• 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
  

 -Another one I love

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

-and another favorite.

Nothing Gold Can Stay


Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

— Robert Frost

Last one

Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Robert Frost