J's Musings

An exceptional poem by Robert Frost; one that I may relate to exceptionally. I believe it is far too plain and clear to have me simplify it further. Therefore, I believe the following text may complicate this perfectly untangled ball of words you have read.

The poet talks about being presented with a choice between two paths that he can take. It is set in autumn, signified by ‘yellow wood’ the colour of alder and birch trees during the season, unlike maple, which turns flaming red. Interestingly, both birch and alder are ‘pioneer species.’ Then it is told that he is confused and apologises that he cannot travel both. For me it shows how much pressure society puts on us; one path is the conventional path and the other creative. Society asks us to follow the path it has already made, but when we do, calls us boring and talentless. Therefore, he apologises that he cannot do both. An act of sarcastic shame. He then reviews the first one and sees it till the road turns and he can see nothing.

He then considers the second road, in equal view. He admits he has better chances of taking it, because it seems grassier and in need of wear. I believe it is the creative or less travelled road. “Though as for that the passing there; Had worn them really about the same.” A line from the verse; I believe is meant to state that the first road is so well made it seems as good as new and the other, less chosen is also just as new and fresh. Therefore, being similarly worn out.

In the second last verse, Frost talks about how the two paths looked similar, equal. For none had a leaf that was trodden over enough to be black. The first because it was made so well, a cleared path, not a leaf in the way. The second for the blanket of leaves on it, had had as good as no visitors; barely enough to turn it black. Giving in, he takes the second and keeps the first as a last resort. Although he believes one choice leads to another and so it may be hard to come back to the start.

Lastly, he believes he shall tell his tale to listeners years later with a sigh; of satisfaction and joy or regret he has no idea. The narrator might say something like

‘Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less travelled by,

And that has made all the difference.’

I agree because I too have chosen a path very few might. I have no idea where this may lead me and so yes, I to believe someday we may tell our tales, with sighs loud and clear. Although who knows what they may signify?

By,

Janhavi B.

Photo Credits: Behance [Google] / Illustrator: Vivian Minekar