Flying Solo

the path less travelled

Coming back from an overnight on Saturday (and returning to the cottage) I felt a little  bit of Robert Frost stirring in my blood
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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;        
 




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.        
 
Basically, if I have confused you, what I am trying to say is that everyone else was over there going South and I was headed north and danced a little tiny jig.





3 Comments

Nice! Jiggety-jig!!

And that's my favourite Robert Frost poem. (Though, I'm not sure I know many others...)

jiggity jiggity indeed

Wished our travels up north was the same last weekend...sadly not. crawling, crawling. But happy dances for you! Enjoy!