And unbidden, a poem came into my mind that I had learnt at junior school in the UK:
Still the white snow whirls softly down.
Twig and bough and blade and thorn,
All in an icy quiet, forlorn.
On sill and stone roof – everywhere,
It heaps its powdery crystal flakes,
Of every tree a mountain makes;
Stoops from the West one wint’ry ray,
And, feathered in fire where ghosts the moon,
A robin shrills his lonely tune;
Flits she who had been in hiding there.
Happy Winter Knitting!
Last Blogpost: Snow gently falling
Next Up: A scarf for the end of winter
Our book: Reversible Knitting Stitches
My Website: www.wyndlestrawdesigns.com
Many thanks to my husband, Tim, for his photos which so beautifully captured the day. If you would like to see more of his photos please visit his Flickr page.
snow, winter, poem, poetry, Massachusetts, MA, USA,