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Who’s woods these are…

Wednesday, January 4th, 2006
Today we drove out to Terje’s families cabin. A drive from the OC is on 7 lane highways with freshly plowed roads. Well, Norway is a tad different. The drive to the cabin is roughly one and a half hours away. The last 45 minutes of the drive are on icy and narrow roads. Roads that I thought were one way only to be suprised when we saw oncoming traffic. We passed probably a total of 6 cars on that last 45 minutes.

Looking out the window you notice the beauty of winter. Norway has perfected winter. The mountainsides are beautifully covered with white snow. The rocks on the sides of the mountains have icecles that give the appearance of frozen waterfalls. The forests are full of a wide variety of trees including birch and pine. They are also sprinkled with a fresh layer of frost and snow. There is a frozen lake that peaks through on either side of the road periodicaly. And then scattered against a backdrop of white is the bright red cabins . These rustic retreats are literally miles apart.

While traveling down these roads Robert Frost’s, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, comes to mind. I have included it below, not by memory of course:

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

We literally lived that poem today, a memory we will not soon forget.

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