Baby Its Cold Outside...

The Snow Man
by Wallace Stevens


One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.



Sorry, but all this snow has me thinking of shagging.


If I make it to the airport tomorrow, I wont be around for a while...

I'm off to spread a bit of craic round Central Europe.

Miss you all already!!!!!!