OK, so it’s not a yellow wood.
Ordinarily, I would never do such a hokey, cliché, Hallmark-card of a thing. I have passed this spot hundreds, if not thousands, of times without once thinking of Frost’s poem. But on this occasion of rare emptiness, and my wife stopping to observe a boat on the river, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the road not taken. So I did it. New Years is a good time to contemplate choices and the roads taken and not taken.