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Since we’re well behind with snowfall this year, I was looking through some photos of past winters to recall snowier times.  I ran across a set that I took at the Pheasant Branch Conservancy in Middleton a few years ago.  Seeing them reminded me that I posted some on Facebook at the time along with a poem inspired by the season.  So, I thought I would post those photos along with the verse that I wrote.  You will probably realize right away that I “borrowed” the idea for this poem from someone else.  I really should thank and apologize to Robert Frost for this.

Stopping by Pheasant Branch Conservancy on a Snowy Morning
or
A Day with Jack and Robert Frost

Whose woods these are we all should know.
They’re yours and mine, and rightly so.
And when the snow begins to fly
This is a place where we can go.

The ground is white and so’s the sky.
A narrow stream still flows nearby.
The snow lies deep between the trees;
It’s deeper than my boots are high.

The air is still; there is no breeze.
The birds seem not to mind the freeze,
And while I hear my heart’s loud beat
They fly right by as if to tease.

Although this is a fine retreat,
I soon find I have aching feet,
And miles to go before I eat,
And miles to go before I eat.