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Surveyor Christmas Tree  


Wendell
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I watch the snowflake fall,
atop my company truck's hood,
and wonder if you,
are watching snowflakes too.

I run a traverse through the woods,
to where you established the POB.
There's a meadow and pond,
but all that waiting there is

Just a surveyor Christmas tree,
looking sorta sad and lonely just like me.
No one seems to care,
They just went away and left it witnessing there,
All alone on Christmas Eve.

I hear the robot chimes,
(beep beep beep)
The data collector confirming,
The shot has been taken and successfully stored.
I sadly close my eyes,
and say a little prayer,
you'll be waiting there for me.
I look but all I see is

Just a surveyor Christmas tree,
looking sorta sad and lonely just like me.
No one seems to care,
They just went away and left it witnessing there,
All alone on Christmas Eve.

This is the season of gloves,
But I'm as cold as I can be,
Why did you have to leave me.

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Norman Oklahoma
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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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Norman Oklahoma
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Posted by: @norman-oklahoma

My little horse must think it [potty mouth] 

jeesh

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2 Replies
Sergeant Schultz
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Mark Mayer
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@sergeant-schultz

Thanks to Wendell for fixing that. 

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Paul in PA
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Just saying Clark, "The little lights don't twinkle".

Merry Christmas Vacation.

Paul in PA

BTW, Robert Frost was referencing a very common surveying fact in Colonial America. Some deeds can still be found, for a Village Lot, with rights attached to put your livestock in the town common pasture, with a farm and/or pasture lot out of town and a wood lot even farther away. Very often the pasture lot had attached access via a cattleway to a stream and the woods lot was accessed via a limited use woods road which was not a public traveled way. Also see Frost's "Mending Wall" for another survey feature.

Mending Wall

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
‘Stay where you are until our backs are turned!’
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
‘Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.’ I could say ‘Elves’ to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’

 

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