Tag Archives: Robert Frost

Land of Fire and Ice

Fire and Ice 

By Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire, 

Some say in ice. 

From what I’ve tasted of desire 

I hold with those who favor fire. 

But if it had to perish twice, 

I think I know enough of hate 

To say that for destruction ice 

Is also great 

And would suffice.

Not Game of Thrones, but Val di Tires in the Dolomites, under the soaring peaks of the Catinaccio.

These ‘Pale Mountains’ have stood, permanent and resolute, since the Triassic era, forever fixed and yet constantly changing. At eight in the morning, as we struggle with our frozen snowshoes in the fresh snow and biting air, the land and sky radiate an underwater blue.

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Later daylight blanches the rock, its ashen face frowning down into the valley.

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However, it is late afternoon when the real show begins. As the sun descends, a stripe of brightness appears across the monochrome tips, soon gaining warmth and colour.

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Stone turns butter and rose, then shocks with a blast of mandarin, acid against the somber sky.

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Then, as quickly as it arrived, it is gone. That Pacific blue floods the scene once more. The cold rises, and darkness shrouds the monster from view.

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Photos: Bothwick and Cro

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Two Look at Two: a touch of Robert Frost in the Abruzzo National Park

“Two had seen two, whichever side you spoke from.
‘This must be all.’ It was all. Still they stood,
A great wave from it going over them,
As if the earth in one unlooked-for favour
Had made them certain earth returned their love.”

From Two Look at Two by Robert Frost.

Unusually, we are up and out before the crowds, and the day is just unfolding itself across the softly wooded hills in front of us as we set out along the track. We soon leave the sunlit open land behind, where a fox is running from scrub to boulder in the meadow, and enter a cool tunnel of branches accompanied by a rushing stream and the calls of a nuthatch. The oaks and copper beeches are just about to turn; green edges catching fire in yellow and orange. Then, in the shadows on the path ahead a shape appears, grey and silent. A doe has stepped out from the forest. She stops and stares and we return the gaze. Minutes go by and we remain fixed. Well, that must be all, but no – there is more. Another grey shape appears, stops behind her. Stares.

I have read this poem before.

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Two look at two.

See the full poem at http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/two-look-at-two/

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Morning along the Camosciara trail
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Into the woods
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The Scerto river flows next to the trail
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Fox following a scent in the meadow