A Winter Eden by Robert Frost
A winter garden in an alder swamp,
Where conies now come out to sun and romp,
As near a paradise as it can be
And not melt snow or start a dormant tree.
It lifts existence on a plane of snow
One level higher than the earth below,
One level nearer heaven overhead,
And last year's berries shining scarlet red.
It lifts a gaunt luxuriating beast
Where he can stretch and hold his highest feat
On some wild apple tree's young tender bark,
What well may prove the year's high girdle mark.
So near to paradise all pairing ends:
Here loveless birds now flock as winter friends,
Content with bud-inspecting. They presume
To say which buds are leaf and which are bloom.
A feather-hammer gives a double knock.
This Eden day is done at two o'clock.
An hour of winter day might seem too short
To make it worth life's while to wake and sport.
What a splendid shot. I know this goes back a ways but I've been looking through your album and you have many beautiful images but this one stands out!
@aspada Thanks so much, It was taken on an old country road. My grandparent's house was just beyond the bend. I always thought there was something magical about it, now i take it in remembrance wishing when I turned the corner they might still be there.
What a gorgeous shot and a great poem.