“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”

NEW YORK ARTS-2Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening is a poem by Robert Frost that has always enchanted me since childhood. I thought of the poem last week when I went to New York City for a story I was researching. It was cold but warmer than it had been all week after a recent snowfall. I ended up in Central Park on a whim and I gasped when I encountered the sparkling scene in front of me. I closed my eyes and the words of the Frost poem came to me. I conjured an image of a horse confused by his rider’s reluctance to get from point A to point B quickly and I made a connection. I often feel that during my hectic days of getting somewhere to accomplish something that is (I believe) incredibly important, that there is, “No time.” Yet, there is something restorative about stopping and engaging in the scenery that can be worth the time it takes to do so. Even though it was not on my original agenda, I wandered along the path anyway. The beauty of the park was stunning, and even though I hate the cold,  I appreciate the beauty of winter. I almost didn’t take the time to enter the park, but when I did, My being was filled with the beauty of nature and the special something that is Central Park. Memories flooded my mind. As a younger woman, I would visit the park with friends during the summer to get some sunshine or some exercise. As a younger woman, I would visit the park with a date and enjoy a picnic on the lawn or the romance of the lake near the Loeb Boathouse. As a younger mother, I visited the park with my children, visiting the zoo or riding in a horse-drawn carriage to show them around the special oasis in the center of the city. Central Park is a special, magical place, and I am grateful that I  took the time to stop by and soak in all that light reflecting off the ground and the shadows cast by the trees and feel that nip in the air as I breathed in deeply the essence of a quiet place amidst the hustle and bustle. As I moved along the path, I reflected on the last lines of the poem: 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.

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