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the author.
the author.
welcome . . .
the safari press is where i share the world around me. polaroids, mix cds, abandoned buildings, adventure, travel, the west, my friends, my life. . . pretty much everything that makes up my day to day.
this is my narrative.
these are my images.
enjoy.
this is my narrative.
these are my images.
enjoy.
come say hello:
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my peeps
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1 comment:
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
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
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