"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening"

Okay, it's one of my favorite poems.
The picture reminds me of the poem.
I got this picture just as the wind blew the snow from the tree tops.
But it wasn't evening. It was about 8:30 in the morning.
There's nothing like a quiet walk in the forest on a winter morning.
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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's 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's 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