Taking the road less traveled

Robert Frost has always been my favorite poet. You could say it’s in my blood. My great-grandmother Diantha was a friend of his and my grandfather remembers going to his house for lunch on Sundays. He remembers his crazy, wild hair and thinking he was weird. It was only later that my he was able to appreciate him for the talented poet that he was.

It also helps that he writes about things that are so familiar to me having grown up in New England, especially Vermont. I was raised firmly believing the phrase “Good fences make good neighbors” from Frost’s poem “Mending Wall.”

This picture that I snapped while I was at home over Christmas reminds me so much of “Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening,” my absolute favorite Frost poem. It’s hard for me to recite it or even think about it without getting teary-eyed. It reminds me so much of home, my childhood and my family that it brings up about a million emotions that literally fill me up to the point of overflowing.

We had to choose a poem to recite in fourth grade, and I of course chose Robert Frost. My second favorite poem is similar to the first in that it takes place in the woods. In fact, when I was younger I would constantly confuse these two poems, even while reciting them. It’s just recently that I’ve revisited this poem. It has so much personal meaning for me right now that it overwhelms me. I think most people would agree that I’m on “the road less traveled,” although I feel the same nostalgia that Frost does when he realizes that he probably won’t be back to take the other path. Because it’s true, “way leads on to way.” Life takes you down so many twisted, forking paths, that it’s hard to end up in the same place twice.

However, I comfort myself with the thought that life doesn’t only give you one chance to choose paths. There are innumerable opportunities to choose direction. I hope I’m always brave enough to choose the road less traveled, though I will always be curious about

The Road Not Taken
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; 5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 20

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