Thursday, November 29, 2012

Thanksgiving and Robert Frost


I always think it's a cruel joke that Thanksgiving, a period of reflection, tradition, and thankfulness, falls at the most crazy-making time of the semester. It seems like everyone has a bunch of deadlines right before...or right after. It doesn't much matter either way, since right after Thanksgiving we all jump into finals week anyway. Most of us are walking around in a psychological and emotional daze, and when my professor reminds my senior seminar that somehow it'll all get done and that there's only two weeks left...we simply sit and glare at her. 

BUT--maybe Thanksgiving comes at a perfect moment. Right as we're all about to lose it, and we become even more wrapped up in what we have to get done, we have this opportunity to be thankful and to think about what we DO have and what IS right about our lives. 

Personally, I am thankful for the cold weather. It's cozy, brisk, and quiet and I LOVE it. The sunny days when everything is glittering, and the gray days when I just want to be inside--I love it all. I love the sweaters, the tea, and the prickly feeling when it's cold enough that your boogers freeze as soon as you walk outside. At least Thanksgiving interrupts us, and our self-absorption, if we let it. 

I leave you with a note from Robert Frost: 

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.