|Photo used with courtesy from Bill Eyster.|
I always believe that winters belong to artists...the poets, writers, painters, and photographers of this world. Perhaps because of the cold and snow we are forced to stay indoors with the tea kettle whistling, candles flaming and our art soaring.
I spent the morning working on a new series of stories, a phone call with a painter friend of mine who was working away in her studio, and an in-depth conversation with a poet...not bad for a day when the temperature does not rise.
My photographer friend, Bill Eyster, took this photo this morning. Bill used to live in town in a lovely old house, but has relocated to the country with his wife, Annie. His photography has definitely taken on a different look with nature outside his back door. This lovely photo made me think of John Greenleaf Whittier and his poem, "Snowbound."
Whittier was born in Haverhill, Massachusetts in the parlor. His first poem was published by abolitionist, William Lloyd Garrison. Garrison encouraged Whittier to study poetry and the English language...and that he did.
He eventually became a shoemaker and a teacher. He continued to send his poetry in to newspapers and magazines and began to make a name for himself. It was his poem "Snowbound" that brought him the money to live comfortably until his death in 1892.
I have added a short clip of the poem at the end of this blog. (The original takes over an hour to read!)
Please enjoy, and perhaps on a snowy night you could actually read the entire piece out loud by the fire with friends.