The Snowman

Farshad's snowman in Tehran, January 2, 2007. The note says: "For World Peace In 2008.

Also, look at these gorgeous pictures of snow in Tehran on Fars News Agency.

My morning started opening an email from Farshad in Tehran, holding pictures of this snowman in his backyard. Thanks to Farshad, it was a good start to a day which took me back to work after several days. My sons and I spent a bit of time together this evening. My older son read his new poem to me, which was delightful, but as you may know, as a mother I am not supposed to make a big deal of how good his poetry has become, because it makes him shy and uncomfortable and next time he writes something, he won't share it with me so easily. So, I made only some small supportive noises, though I was filled with pride. That also was a perfect end to this day. I leave you with a Wallace Stevens poem, entitled appropriately, The Snowman. Wallace Stevens was a Pulitzer winner American poet who died over 50 years ago. Listen to this short piece on NPR by Commentator Jay Keyser who says Stevens wrote the best short poem in the English language, and his reasons for this.

The Snowman

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.