January 15

In 1857 Thoreau writes:

We are ordinarily in a state of desperation; such is our life ... But let us hear a strain of music, we are at once advertised of a life no man has told us of. Suppose I try to describe faithfully the prospect which a strain of music exhibits to me. The field of my life becomes a boundless plain, glorious to tread, with no death or disappointment at the end of it. All meanness and trivialness disappear. I become adequate to any deed. No particulars survive this expansion; persons do not survive it. In the light of this strain there is no thou nor I. We are actually above ourselves.

I wonder what strain he was listening to?

One morning I was feeling low and the song "Bare Necessities" starting playing on the radio. Such a silly song but it really has a lot to say. I ended up laughing when it was over and wondered what I was so bothered about earlier. I suppose that is what Thoreau is getting at.

I recently listened to the audio book "Life" by Keith Richards, very entertaining and informative. However, whenever I listen to the Rolling Stones now the songs have completely new meaning. Learning the history of their lives and how songs came to be gives them this entirely new meaning and enjoyment. A bit like hearing them for the first time.

I digress, back to Thoreau's journal entry, I love the last part "we are above ourselves." That is what really touched me reading this this morning.

"Men Say They Know Many Things" by Henry David Thoreau

Men say they know many things;

But lo! they have taken wings, —
The arts and sciences,
And a thousand appliances;
The wind that blows
Is all that any body knows.

Friendship

Friendship By Henry David Thoreau

I think awhile of Love, and while I think,

         Love is to me a world,
         Sole meat and sweetest drink,
         And close connecting link
            Tween heaven and earth.

I only know it is, not how or why,
         My greatest happiness;
         However hard I try,
         Not if I were to die,
            Can I explain.

I fain would ask my friend how it can be,
         But when the time arrives,
         Then Love is more lovely
         Than anything to me,
            And so I'm dumb.

For if the truth were known, Love cannot speak,
         But only thinks and does;
         Though surely out 'twill leak
         Without the help of Greek,
            Or any tongue.

A man may love the truth and practise it,
         Beauty he may admire,
         And goodness not omit,
         As much as may befit
            To reverence.

But only when these three together meet,
         As they always incline,
         And make one soul the seat,
         And favorite retreat,
            Of loveliness;

When under kindred shape, like loves and hates
         And a kindred nature,
         Proclaim us to be mates,
         Exposed to equal fates
            Eternally;

And each may other help, and service do,
         Drawing Love's bands more tight,
         Service he ne'er shall rue
         While one and one make two,
            And two are one;
In such case only doth man fully prove
         Fully as man can do,
         What power there is in Love
         His inmost soul to move
            Resistlessly.
               ______
Two sturdy oaks I mean, which side by side,
         Withstand the winter's storm,
         And spite of wind and tide,
         Grow up the meadow's pride,
            For both are strong
Above they barely touch, but undermined
         Down to their deepest source,
         Admiring you shall find
         Their roots are intertwined
            Insep'rably.


HDT

Ellery on Henry

"His journals should not be permitted to be read by any, as I

think they were not meant to be read. I alone might read them
intelligently. To most others they would only give false
impressions. I have never been able to understand what he
meant by his life. Why did he care so much about being a writer?
Why did he pay so much attention to his own thoughts? Why
was he so dissatisfied with everyone else, etc? Why was he so
much interested in the river and the woods and the sky, etc?"

Something peculiar, I judge.

- Ellery Channing, friend of Thoreau's


I have often wondered this, what would Thoreau think of us reading his journals? I love reading them and getting into them they are so thought provoking. I love his observations and the way he thinks about every intricate thing. He thinks so deeply, and looks so far into and examines very part of life down to the cellular level. I get into that. Such a brilliant mind. But I'm not certain he would approve of the world reading his thoughts, also I'm not convinced we interpret them as he meant, even the greatest scholar I believe is flawed in some way. I mean really how could you know what he was thinking, feeling, enduring, what was pressing on his mind, who was he thinking about, was he thinking about anyone, when he wrote his thoughts down? What was his mood, the weather, what was he looking at, where was he, what was on his mind? I have such deep respect for Thoreau. I believe him to be a very private, intelligent, deeply loving and caring person. I have enormous respect him. As did Ellery.


And of course I could be completely off track here.

WWTT

What would Thoreau think?

I ordered a book for my son, who lives in Maine, from the Thoreau Society store located at Walden Pond. I received an email confirming my order, completely cool with that. Received an email about my order shipping, rather quickly I might add, very cool with that too. So I have these two emails, and in addition I can also go to the website and view my order and print any time I want. In the mail I received a printed receipt of my order, and another piece of paper notifying me it was shipped to Maine to my son and billed to me. My discount was not applied, but no matter ... what is with the paper waste?

My question is, why isn't the Thoreau Society living by Thoreau's principles?  I find it a bit wasteful to send me a receipt that I can print out myself, and what if I had? Not to mention the extra paper enclosed and the envelope. Shouldn't they be "printing responsibly?"

Thinking of Thoreau...

I love this one by Thoreau.. This evokes so many emotions, memories, and thoughts. From childhood to present day. "The hunters horn awakes the dawn" takes me back to my room as a teenager hearing the sounds of gunshot and the honking of the geese flying over the refuge near my parents home. Laying on on the bed wondering, 'did you escape the hunter?'The last time I was at Walden I was watching the fish just under the surface of the water glide from side to side. "Far in the wood the traveller dreams" brings thoughts of my trip this summer. Absolutely my favorite line being the incurable traveller that I am. "I melt I flow"..thanks Henry. 

A Winter and Spring Scene

The willows droop, 

The alders stoop, The pheasants group,

Beneath the snow;

The fishes glide

From side to side

In the clear tide,

The ice below.

The ferret weeps,

The marmot sleeps,

The owlet keeps,

In his snug nook.

The rabbit leaps,

The mouse out-creeps,

The flag out-peeps,

Beside the brook.

The snow-dust falls,

The otter crawls,

The partridge calls

Far in the wood;

The traveller dreams,

The tree ice-gleams,

The blue jay screams,

In angry mood.

The apples thaw,

The ravens caw,

The squirrels gnaw

The frozen fruit;

To their retreat

I track the feet

Of mice that eat

The apple's root.

The axe resounds,

The bay of hounds,

And tinkling sounds

Of wintery fame;

The hunter's horn

Awakes the dawn

On field forlorn,

And frightens the game.

The tinkling air

Doth echo bear

To rabbit's lair,

With dreadful din;

She scents the air,

And far doth fare,

Returning where

She did begin.

The fox stands still 

Upon the hill

Not fearing ill

From trackless wind.

But to his foes

The still wind shows

In treacherous snows

He tracks behind.

Now melts the snow

In the warm sun.

The meadows flow, 

The streamiest run.

The spring is born,

The wild bees bum,

The insects hum,

The trees drop gum,

And winter's gone,

And summer's come.

The chic-a-dee

x Lisps in the tree,

The winter bee

Not fearing frost: The small nuthatch The bark doth scratch some worm to catch

At any cost.

The catkins green

Cast o'er the scene

A summer sheen,

A genial glow.

I melt, I flow,

And rippling run,

rr e

Like melting snow

In this warm sun

HDT

Thoreau's Birth House

The Thoreau Farm Trust lovingly and painstakingly preserved this house to educate the public on the contribution to society Thoreau made and still has today. The continue Thoreau's legacy integrating green architecture in the house preservation. A beautiful addition to this project is an organic gardening community behind the house. The farm raises organic fruit and vegetables for those in need. I thought this was the most Thoreauvian aspect of my entire visit there. 


The house is beautifully done. The house had been in several hands since Thoreau's time there. Since they didn't know for certain what the furnishings were like they didn't furnish the house. The tour consist of a walk through the third of the house the Thoreau's lived in. The walls are adorned with quotes from Thoreau's journals and pieces written about him. There is also a wall of significant people who's live were affected by Thoreau's life and writings. 


"The Thoreau Farm Trust is a non-profit group dedicated to the restoration and reuse of the c.1730 farmhouse in Concord where Henry David Thoreau was born. Currently, there is no house site in Concord that celebrates the entire life and legacy of this extraordinary American author and philosopher and our country's first environmentalist. The fact that the house where Thoreau was born is located in a modest neighborhood and is surrounded by farmland makes it a perfect place to carry on Thoreau's belief in living simply and close to the land." The Thoreau Farm Trust

Whitman on Walden

In 1881 Walt Whitman visited the cabin site, and later wrote: "Then to Walden Pond, that beautifully embower'd sheet of water, and spent over an hour there. On the spot in the woods where Thoreau had his solitary house is now quite a cairn of stones, to mark the place; I too carried one and deposited on the heap."


Whitman's beguiling description of Walden here "beautifully empowered sheet of water" is how I see it when I am there. Walden has such and alluring power over me. I'm not sure what it is, but I feel complete when I am there. Perhaps Henry's spirit is there? This past week I hiked around the pond and into Lincoln what a beautiful day. People always ask what the attraction to Walden is perhaps Whitman hits on it here, beauty, empowerment, and nature. What more could a spirit ask?

June 21, 2010

Summer Solstice is here. This is the longest day of the year. "True summer is 85* at 2 pm, fireflies at night" (the best part of summer in my opinion) "and the mosquitos become bothersome" according to Thoreau. It appears not much has changed in the last 150 years when it comes to insects....and hot summer days.