Whose woods these are, they didn’t care…

I heard something on the radio this afternoon that made me so, so sad. 

Vandals trashed Robert Frost’s summer home in Ripton, Vermont last night.  Underaged kids — police think maybe up to fifty of them — broke into the historic site and had a party there.  They smashed windows.  Broke his furniture and burned it in the fireplace.  Then vomited on the floor.  CNN ran a story with more details here.

Robert Frost is my favorite poet, one of the writers who taught me to love words and the way they go together.  Our family visited that summer house a few years ago and hiked the  Robert Frost Trail nearby.  The building is nothing fancy — a simple two story farmhouse in the Green Mountain National Forest  — but you can feel Frost’s spirit when you step onto the property.  A feeling of simplicity and peace.  What happened there is so ugly and so wrong.

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