The darkest evening of the year

Happy Winter Solstice! In celebration, I've been chanting the following Robert Frost poem over and over in my head today. Right now in California, the sun is dipping below the horizon and casting the most magnificent rosy glow across the sky, and the briskness of evening is settling in. May you have candles aplenty to light you on this dark, dark night.

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


{Image via Flickr}