A. Walden's photostream  

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth...

-- Robert Frost

The days are short,
The sun a spark
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.

-- John Updike

When I look in your eyes
I see the wisdom of the world in your eyes
I see the sadness of a thousand goodbyes
when I look in your eyes

And it is no surprise
to see the softness of the moon in your eyes
the gentle sparkle of the stars in the skies
when I look in your eyes

-- Leslie Bricusse

And finding little encouraging there, retreated to her den like the proverbial groundhog for a few more months of snooze...

Only the country-liver can fully feel it -- this dying of night with the birth of day -- this supreme moment when the mists and dimness and low voices of the one exhale into the melody and brightness of the other. It is a daily miracle -- this sudden transition from gray to rosy light -- this unrolling of the landscape--this assumption, in delicious crescendo, of sound -- this quickening of the day's life over the sleep of night -- this flying of darkness, as of a ghost pursued, before the flooding of light -- this oldest of all stories again told. Awake, for the day has dawned.

-- Ellen Chapman (Hobbs) Rollins