Frost

A couple of nights ago for some reason I cannot fathom, something popped into my head. "Whose woods these are, I think I know. His house in the village, though. He will not see me stopping here to watch his woods fill up with snow." I have always been an enormous Robert Frost fan. "The Road Not Taken" is something everyone knows and many of us have thought it tells the story of our lives. I was so fortunate to be born and brought up in New England where his words ring so true. "Good fences make good neighhbors." Oh how that describes the attitude of New England! Once, for a year, Robert Frost lived in a house in Plymouth, New Hampshire where the college is located. There is a sign outside of The Frost House. You could almost feel him there. Of course now Plymouth State Teacher's College is Plymouth State University, part of the University of New Hampshire. It always had been but they had only dropped "Teacher's" from the name until recently. I kinda miss hearing someone say PSC. Not quite the same as PSU. But I digress.

Robert Frost was a wonderful poet and an interesting man. Reading his words always reminds me of home, of my family. These days those strong memories affect me profoundly. I have no family nearby except those dear friends who have become my new family. I have always kept my compendium of Frost's work near my bed so I could read it when I needed that touch of home. I think we all have something that reminds us of home, of growing up and happier days. Robert Frost's poetry is mine.