As a snowstorm began in February, 2011, I drove, alone through the military park at Shiloh. Almost dark, snowing heavily, I had put up my gear. As I was exiting in my vehicle, my eyes caught a lone silhouette,who obviously saw me as well. Almost as if trying to discern why I was even there, he watched me as I stopped, unpacked my Camera and lens, and prepared quickly for a shot I knew would be my favorite, if I could get it. One shot, only. No time for a different lens. He stared a moment longer, and disappeared into the woods.

Had been thinking of Robert Frost's classic poem as I shot. What a moment...

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
BY 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.
Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” from The Poetry of Robert Frost, edited by Edward Connery Lathem. Copyright 1923, © 1969 by Henry Holt and Company, Inc., renewed 1951, by Robert Frost. Reprinted with the permission of Henry Holt and Company, LLC.