Ramble on the Amble Trail

The next set of posts were taken on a hike, led by Cherry Corey (her blog is Sense of Place) on October 19, 2013.  Lovely weather!  Hikers coordinated parking across the street from the High School (the end of that hike) and carpooled to the beginning of the trail, near the Emerson House.

The picture is a trail marker for the "Emerson/Thoreau Amble"  (Google map here) and for the Bay Circuit Trail.  There is another white rectangle marker which I think is a "Concord Trails" indicator.  The photo was taken in Heywoods Meadow next to Emerson house.  You can read about the history of the trail being forged (again) by town activists here, taking a walk in 2007.

A Note about Parking: You might want to do what the group did and park at the Trail Head across from Concord Carlistle Regional High School (there is room for a few cars).  Or at Emerson House, you can park on the street- but there are not too many spaces.  You can easily go all the way to Walden (probably 2 miles), but be aware that Route 2 (A MAJOR HIGHWAY) cuts through the idyllic walk.  If you are the type to carry a lot of beach gear with you, park at Walden when you swim.  If you are just going to see the scenery, the trail actually skips the Main Beach and leads right to Henry's house site.  (Bring a rock for the Cairn!!)

If you are looking for the entrance to the trail, it is at the back of Heywood Meadow.  (Heywood owned property around Walden too, in case you know the name "Heywood Meadow" in reference to that part of town) This Heywood Meadow is on Lexington Street and will be on your right if you are coming from the center of town.  It is the last patch of open land before you reach Emerson's House (and the Concord Museum across the street). I didn't see a path connecting Emerson's yard (please don't bushwack one!!), but the trail goes just behind the house so that it is in view for the first section.

Concord Conversations Initial Idea

IIn Concord, there seem to be a lot of separate groups focusing on a variety of subjects; hiking, nature, ecology, Concord Authors, literature & history.  I'd love to figure out a way to unite these in a series of Margaret Fuller style "Conversations" in which we can bring overlapping activities, interests & people together.

It may start as simple as an email group of people who post about all the events already happening and plan extra time for a conversation or activity before/after.  It should be inclusive and build up over time into a regular and permanent series of events all its own. I'd love to bring already existing groups and professionals together, creating a synergy for attendance at events, rather than reinvent the wheel.

My idea is to consistently have two components: an activity and a sit-down conversation.  Perhaps a hike/swim/bike ride and then a presentation or Margaret Fuller "Conversation" on a specific topic.  Coffee and snacks should be plentiful and the conversation should happen around a cozy fire when possible.

I'm currently just sending out feelers about this and gathering contacts who would like to lead and/or participate.  Let me know your reactions (privately or publicly), level of interest and any other ideas. Also, feel free to forward this to anyone who may be like-minded and interested in joining.

If the above sounds good, and you would like to inform me of future events that you know of or are conducting, I would love to pass event listings along to the email list that I am compiling.

Other Walden & Concord Blogs

This is what I've found so far.

Hope you enjoy them as much as I am.
"Thoreau's Sukkah"
http://thoreaussukkah.wordpress.com/ - written by a pond regular, who swims & kayaks. (Awesome!)

"Sense of Place Concord"
http://sense-of-place-concord.blogspot.com/- Written by Cherry Corey, a fascinating woman who leads walks, (for normal people and also for enthusiasts of Wildflowers, etc).  Also an incredible photographer & recorder of everything she sees.

"New Start For Liz"
http://newstart4liz.wordpress.com/- a writer's journey, former triathelete, now swimmer.

"Thoreau's Chronological Atlas"
http://aschmidt01742.wordpress.com/ Academic (Allan H. Schmidt) who lives by "Thoreau's Mill Brook" and who is exploring & mapping the locations of Thoreau's surveys.  Lots of good info, especially if you are a hiker or if you want to walk in Thoreau's footsteps.

"Walden Pond Press"
http://waldenpondpress.blogspot.com/ a Children's Book Publishing collaboration between HarperCollins and Walden Media (be warned, not genuine Walden Pond focus)

If you are looking for a more genuine Concord press for kids, head to
"Barefoot Books"
http://www.barefootbooks.com/?bf_affiliate_code=000-02yb-7151 a bookstore for kids in Concord Center, they have their own press and often have events as well.

For a Lost Swimmer

(Parts read during the Healing Gathering on Friday, still in progress)

Prayer for the Unknown Swimmer

I have been you

Under the surface

Listening to the water

The sun streaming down

Like directions into the sky

We come here for peace

We shall look for you

And we will guard ourselves

and those around us

from being overtaken

As much as we can

We hope you have found your peace

And the last view, afternoon sunlight diffused through water

Dying, cradled in the arms of an old friend

==

I took a picture of a tourist the other day.

She was bringing her 6 month old baby

Held her securely above the water

Both giggled as her toes dipped into the water and kicked.

The first delicious taste of cool water.

Every time we breach the surface,

we are reborn.

Amniotic fluid, baptism, daily showers and rain

never enough until it floods.

Walden has watched us through the years and seasons.

Underwater for the first time,

friends and lovers we introduce

Glorious days of sun we share with strangers

And rainy days of mist which draw us into smaller insect worlds.

Henry's endless varieties of plants,

even he could not name all the visitors.

I wish I had a picture of the first time.

Walden holds us.

first frost

silver ghosts

Walden holds all of us.

We contain multitudes.

It holds our footprints in the sands, every stroke,

the first glorious morning our parent brought us to the shores.

Held us aloft above the surface, secure

Even Henry drowned. (Tuberculosis)

"A lake is the landscape's most beautiful and expressive feature. It is Earth's eye; looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature." - Henry David Thoreau, 9. The Ponds, Walden

“Be it life or death, we crave only reality. If we are really dying, let us hear the rattle in our throats and feel the cold in the extremities; if we are alive, let us go about our business.”

We see you.

In the sunlight

In the sunset

Every person baptized by these waters

Or words

We will find you

Again and again

In this Fall

The sunset comes too soon

And the cold

We, lost in the forest,

Engulfed by the dark

Guide us, with whatever you have now

And we will care for you.

Our lost brother

75 yards

20 feet

63

The other shore

Never the same river twice

The Pond holds us all

Every day

Every visit

Footsteps as plentiful as grains of sand

Fertile forest floor

Silver ghosts of salmon

Swim in the deepest

We, the living, will look harder

Help

Bikers, hikers

We will be kinder

More considerate

Try to be careful on our own journeys

We will find you in the setting sun

Henry's footsteps

Decordova's vision

Children and tourists

Help us

When we are missing

What we miss in our lives

The sunset of our days

The chill is on us all

We are you

Help us to find

We will listen for each other

May you be at peace.

We will find you

Again and again

A Simple Healing Ceremony

The weather on Friday was not cold enough to keep the Regulars away.

Sitting around after a spin in the water, one told stories of a lost swim fin.  How it was found a few years later, before the undergrowth had bloomed.  20 feet of water can be awfully clear early in the Spring.

2 were there who had been there on Sunday.  Pointed to a spot where 3 people had been.  This time of year, there are so few people that you notice.  Pointed across the pond in the direction of the likely route.  It could happen to any of us.



And so, a few people gathered on the shores as the sun set.

A guitar and a candle.  A poem and a few words from Henry's book.

The Earth's Eye.

Voices raised in song.  "We're All Swimming to The Other Side"

A lone swimmer remained in the water; ripples were the only things left behind.  She stayed past the closing horn, past the dying of the light.  (A swimmer after my own heart.  If I could, I'd live in Walden. Not "AT" Walden, like Thoreau, but "IN", like a mermaid.)

The candle echoed the sunset.  The cloud cover made the sunset darker and seemed to steal time from us.  But the light broke through on the horizon.

(The first time I swam across, the dark clouds made me lose track of time.  On my return lap, they had cleared and given me back several hours of sunlight.  I sang "Blue Skies" to myself, faith in the sky.) 

And here is the breakthrough of the light.  With help from my photographer friend, and an open shutter. 

 Walden remains whether we can see it or not.

Simple Simple Healing & Peace Gathering

I posted this on Facebook.  Thoreau Society.  Walden Woods.  I told a swimmer (Sue) I had met these past two days (both of which were in the 80's).  Took a picture of a woman from Newton, who didn't think she was photogenic.

"For anyone and everyone who loves Walden Pond, 

Unofficial, Unorganized Healing & Peace Gathering 

Friday Afternoon 5:30 to 6:15ish
(Parking Lot Gates close at 6:30)

On the Beach.
Bring a poem, thought, prayer.

If you can't be there in person,
send thoughts from where you are.
And carry them with you the next time you visit.

Simple. Simple."

==

Yesterday (Wed), I went up to my chin, treading water. Didn't go very far, wanted to get out before the sun disappeared.

Today (Thurs) the water was numbingly cold, but I swam halfway anyway.

I ran into someone who knows more about the man and where he was found.  He pointed to a spot. Which I shall always call "John's Spot"  (as if The Man was named John, John Doe).

That is where I swam to today.   Thinking about bits of a poem and needing to create a "gathering", if only for myself.

Lost Women

The memory of Martha Hunt, who drowned (herself) in the Concord River (July 9, 1845), still haunts me.  She was a 19 year old schoolteacher.  The cause seemed to be "for want of sympathy".  Her sister did it some time later.  And then a third sister drowned, albeit accidentally.

Hawthorne was part of the search party. He used his experience for "The Blithedale Romance". (I can't bear to find the quote right now, it's quite graphic)

Martha died the same year that Margaret Fuller published her "Women in the Nineteenth Century".  Fuller herself would drown a mere 5 years later, after a triumphal return voyage from Italy with a courtly husband and baby son (July 19, 1850) 100 yards from the shore of Fire Island, NY.

And to add to the tension tonight, "Leave Her to Heaven" is playing as I'm writing this.  There is a drowning scene.  A boy, a "cripple", wants to "swim all the way across".  He has a cramp and drowns, while Gene Tierney looks on.  (Granted, she's a sociopath).

There's no connections I can make.  No explanations.  No satisfying or philosophical narrative.

My mother grew up on an island in the middle of the Atlantic.  The Azores.  With all that water, you could never take anything for granted.

Always respect Mother Nature.

Lost Man

Sunday was a beautiful day.  Perfect for a swim.

The Walden Woods Project posted the above marvelous picture (Monday afternoon, 2:28pm on FB) with the caption:

"The woods were beautiful this morning, full of fog and funnel-weavers' gossamer."

The picture seemed like an oil painting from another time.

Sunday evening, just as the sun was fully setting, a man was reported missing.  That Monday afternoon, the Woods were full of police officers, searching.  Hoping that a man had staggered out of the water, getting lost and hopefully just confused and dehydrated.

I have spent the past summer, and summers before that, wandering through the woods.  I have stayed on the paths mostly. This past summer especially, I joined a group of hikers calling themselves "Saunterers", like Henry.

I know the paths. The trees melting into their fall colors.  Spiders and small bugs.  Things which were unknown to me once.

I know the surface of the pond.  I do not know the bottom.

He was found on Tuesday, just before noon.  75 yards from shore, in water 20 feet deep.

Rest in Peace.

Pictures of the Swimming Spot

In the Boston Globe today, they have a series of pictures of the past century of swimming.  The HUGE concrete pier and floating docks.  I had thought it was a trick of memory, but this is really what the beach used to look like!

August 18, 1946.  The War is over and summer still has a few weeks to play out.  Maybe the concrete pier is standard to most swimming places, but it reminds me of pictures of kids beneath the Brooklyn Bridge.  As if jumping off industrial pilings were more favored than just running straight into the water from the shore. Man conquering nature.

This is what I remember from when I was younger:

August 2, 1981

Lifeguard Beach is bigger than it is currently.  I love how you can SEE the shallow rectangle for swimming on the main beach.  And how the buoys are much further away than they seem this summer.  (Currently, there are 2 sets, one up to my waist and another one just over my head)  Those other dots seem too big to be individual people.  Somehow it looks bigger in the photograph, but I think it's an illusion.  Swimming there now is like swimming in a huge canyon of water.  You can't gauge distance by anything other than a few landmarks.  (But that's what I love about it!)

It is less crowded now (thank goodness), but is it serving fewer of the people who really need it?  Maybe kids used to be bussed in from the inner city.  I'd like to think that with all the available swimming spots in MA, that the kids are just more dispersed.  Camps, ponds, or other "recreational" activities.  I don't wanna think about videogames, nannies, television or whatever else that occupies young minds other than the joys of swimming.

The original link is here:
http://www.bostonglobe.com/specials/insiders/2013/08/28/bucolic-walden-pond/5RInDg0J595Ca21aFOem3O/picture.html

Driving Directions to Walden

My route to Walden begins in Waltham, and if you are coming off of Route 128, you can follow these directions as well.

Leave the congested highway & industrial parks behind and head towards the trees.  There is a house with a miniature bridge in front of it, on the right, easy to miss. There used to be a bump in the road that would leave your stomach up in the air for a moment, but the road was repaved almost 20 years ago and the street lost this quality.

Go past a few more streets, think of this area as a place where Henry identified Cassandra Chamaedaphne calyculata, aka the Partridge Pea.

And then the road takes your breath away.  The Cambridge Reservoir suddenly expands your view on both sides.  If you happen to be coming in the fall, the colors will surround you.  Some days the water is mirror like.  Others, the scene exists in shades of grey.

There is a family who has a pond in their front yard, on your right, look for a stone sculpture.

As long as you are not traveling in the full lushness of summer, you can see the Wooden Castle (112 Trapelo Rd, it's currently for sale $875k)  You can easily see it through the trees.  There was an open house sometime in the early 90's and I spoke to the disillusioned owner who was desperately trying to sell.  He had made a fortune in one of the technology bubbles (late 70's, it was built in 1980), and was told by a gypsy that he would always be safe if he lived in a house with turrets.  The gypsy was wrong.

There's a tin replica of an American flag just beyond it and directly across the street is a barn with a peace sign painted onto the door.  (Once some vandal had painted over one line to transform it into a symbol for a famous expensive car.  If you are wondering, the American flag came MUCH later than the barn peace sign)

There are fields and lovely houses along the road.  Keep an eye out for a farmhouse & silo, posed next to a reflective pond.  You'll have to look over your shoulder as you go up a hill.   Just make sure you don't plow into the town cemetery (which now exists as a large, above ground traffic island).

At the 5-Way Stop Sign, you'll want to look to your left to make sure you don't miss the Lincoln Library, which is a brick gem itself, including turrets from the 1800's and a recent glass wing.  The tree in front has managed to twist itself into spirals watching the traffic over the past 100+ years.

Go straight across (look for a sandwich board communicating interesting local events on the mini-traffic island).  Admire the trees and houses along the road here, one used to have a winter scene painted on a window pane on the 2nd floor.  Another held a secret tunnel/room for the Underground Railroad. (I hear it is now used as a wine cellar)

The field on the left belongs to the town and is where they shoot off fireworks for the 4th of July.  Along on your right will be the Decordova Museum & Sculpture Park, which I have talked about on a previous post.  Don't get distracted now, you are about to actually come to a turn!

If you keep going on the road you are on, you will drive along Sandy Pond Road, which Henry knew as Flint's Pond.  He complained about Farmer Flint and what right had he to give his name to a pond where all he did was own the title to the land.  It's a reservoir now, but a very lovely view nevertheless.  (Hikers and swimmers are discouraged, but Walden is easier and better anyhow!)

Just beyond the goat field (I think I've seen as many as 3), you will see Baker Bridge Road on your left.  (The asphalt is purple) There will be a horse farm on your right, with a few conspicuous horses.  Up the road is a school and another horse place (where the horses are completely hidden from view).  Follow the road as it winds around a large rock and in no time you will find yourself at the great trivia question.  When was this beautiful white house with the glass wall and spiral staircase built? 1980's?  Nope, 1938!  The Gropius House.

I know it is tempting, but keep going.

Down the hill, you'll come across fields on either side of the road.  They are the Lincoln CSA Farms (community sponsored agriculture) for the less advantaged.  This past summer, in the left field, there were a row of sunflowers planted closest to the road.  On the right, you can look behind the field and see a house.  It is on the same road that the Thoreau Institute is on.  Don't look too hard, here's another turn!  Right! Onto Rt 126!!  Quick!

If you happen to turn left instead, you can make a scenic detour and head past the Codman Estate (1790).  Even if the house itself is not open, park & go for a walk of the grounds.  Especially the jewel of the Italianate garden, with its rectangle pool and stone sculptures.  (There's plenty to distract yourself with on this side of Rt 2, if Walden's parking lot is closed due to overcapacity on a hot day!)

Back to our regularly scheduled turn onto 126.  Immediately in front of you, there are 2 stone driveway columns and a sign marked "Private Way".  If you were to drive up there (don't, not just yet anyway), on Baker Farm Road, you'd encounter a bunch of speedbumps and at the very top, a/the Thoreau Institute which lives in a former hunting lodge.

But keep on Rt 126, the brown wooden barriers are a sign that you've reached the edge of the property.  The lake will soon emerge on your left, hopefully smiling in the sun.

Enjoy yourself!!

Swimming Tour of Walden

One of my many fantasies about Walden includes creating and leading a swimming tour of Walden.

Bring just your body, bathing suit and your brain.  No watches, waterproof iPhones.  No cameras and no baggage.

Ideally, twice a day.  Plan for two hours total, but try not to schedule anything immediately afterwards.  You may want to stay longer.

We'd meet inside the Thoreau replica.  Always a good idea to get a sense of Henry's life.  A cozy room, just enough.  Especially good to contrast with the immensity of the water.  Maybe recommend that people pick up a small stone (to be carried in their belly button).

We'd cross to the map, where I'd point out the shape of the pond.  A one legged buffalo.  Or a cathedral.  I'd point out the bays, stuff that people had read in books.

Then we'd go down to the water.

Right at the bottom of the ramp, go down the steps, drop your towel & shoes on the stone wall.  Vamp a little bit, maybe go around asking names while we all get a little used to the temperature of the water.  Stand up to our waists for a few minutes.

Then dive in.

I'd encourage everyone to follow me a little past the view of the swimming ropes, out of earshot of the children's shouts.  Discuss how the shoreline has changed, how the water ate the beach during the summer of 2011 (?).  The renovation & retaining walls installed in 1986, the removal of a concrete pier & my memories of it.  Learning to swim in these waters.  Swimming there every summer of my life.  An annual baptism.

Lifeguard Beach, although there are never any lifeguards there, and this is the first year they've installed swimming ropes there.  It's preferable if you want to get away from the crowds at the main beach, but the stones make for difficulty walking or standing.  Turtle nest there.

Further in, close to the middle, we'd stop and contemplate.  I'd point out paths to Henry's Beanfield, his hut, the train tracks, direction of Fairhaven Bay (the forest fire), Emerson's Cliff, the Andromeda ponds.

But I wouldn't want to give it all away, just yet.

Mostly, we'd tread water, look around, and enjoy.  This is my favorite place in the entire world.  I've seen the pond frozen over.  (And am too much of a chicken to walk to this spot even with thick ice)  We'd discuss Henry's use of time. "A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers".  The seasons of the year, even though he was there for 2 years, 2 months and 2 days in the book "Walden".  How timeless it is for someone like me.  Exactly the same as when I first swam across (the "Blue Skies" story), even though I might be a completely different person.  How it will be the same when I step into it when I am 90.  The funny quote about "never stepping into the same river twice", and this pond being a contrast.

We'd swim to Henry's Cove.  Get out, see if people are comfortable walking up to the House Site.  Moments for quiet contemplation and dropping off the bellybutton stones.

I'm a person who is hesitant to walk anywhere barefooted.  Although I have walked around the whole pond barefoot, and once 3/4 of the way sharing a pair of flipflops with a friend when I was 12.  BUt if we are feeling strong as a group, I may take them up the Fire Road.

The Moguls, my second favorite spot on the paths, third favorite on the property.  Henry knew it as the Deep Cut.  It's a 15 minute walk from the edge of the pond, Ice Fort Cove.  The meeting of Rt 2 and the railroad tracks, the edge of the property.  Huge pine trees and curving hills that would make any roller-coaster lover happy.

The pine trees make the trails soft to walk upon.  Unbelievably soft.  Suddenly Henry's barefoot lifestyle seems less difficult than you could have ever thought possible.

We'd dive in again at Ice Fort Cove.  I'd explain about how the trees block the view from Emerson's Cliff.  How Henry's view of the tree-lined shore as a child was similar to what we are looking at now.  But when he was living here, the trees had been mostly cut down, for the railroad, for timber and for firewood.

I'd talk about the Irish workers who lived by the railroad tracks.  And the 1/4 mile horsetrack on the other side of the tracks.  And the amusement park, which welcomed thousands between 1866-1902.  Today the crowds are limited to one thousand lucky people at one time.  (I've always preferred popular places when they are deserted, and somehow the joy of the inner-city ghosts who once came still haunt the waters.  Walden accommodates everyone and everything, and returns to itself)

There are trails to explore surrounding the pond, and I'd encourage hikers to go to Heywood's Meadow.  I've seen beaver there, plus evidence of their hard work. Stumps carved into perfect cones, like something from a cartoon.

Somehow the return swim always seems shorter and quicker.  I'd encourage everyone to do a bit of birding (or clouding, as per the crowd's tastes).  I saw a Great Blue Heron while I was doing the backstroke & staring at some clouds yesterday.  It is the time for serious contemplation and great thought.  The shore comes up too quickly.

At the end, I'd also say that back when I was a youngster, the Ice Cream Truck was thankfully parked in the Boat Parking Lot.  But now it lives across the street in the regular one.  And it is a great place to sample another sense (taste).  And to examine license plates and accents from different parts of the country & world.

Swims This Season (so far)

Everytime I look at Walden, especially up close, I want to dive right in.  Summer is my favorite season there.  Followed by Spring, when I anticipate swimming.  Or Fall, when I think back on swimming.  Or even Winter, when I contemplate the ice and wonder how long it will be for the snow and ice to melt before I can swim again.

This week, it was Monday morning (because I had just gotten back from New York).  Across the pond and back.  It's only .5 of a mile, I learned this week.  (I'm bad at numbers, I used to think it was 1.5, which is closer to the circumference around the pond).  Also used to think it was 120 feet (the height of the inside of Grand Central), but it is only 102 feet deep.   Which does make it the deepest in all of Massachusetts.  I still like to imagine the whole of Grand Central submerged beneath me.

I went for a walk later as well, by then it was oddly too cold to go for another swim.  The nights were getting down to 40 degrees.  Throughout July, even the water temperature got up close to 80 degrees in some parts!!  (The shallow parts, I'm sure.  Someone said they had to stop swimming because they were sweating so much . . .?)

Wednesday, I went for a Literary walk, a Park Interpreter led us out at 5:30.  We were meditating on the essay, "Walking", published after his death.  I went for a half swim (1 hour, paddling past Lifeguard Beach and hanging around until the announcements)

Thursday, I stole a full swim in the late evening.  The humidity made the sun and clouds look yellow, bouncing light off the water.  The forecast was for rain, heavy rain, all day.  But it was cleared up by 2, and I was in the water from 6-7:30!!

Friday rained.  Saturday rain is expected.  Sunday and Monday, SUN!!

Lovely when you discover that you exercise is also your compulsion.

Sauntering

Monday, August 5, 2013:

Sunset Saunter at 5:30.  It was excellent.  We got lost. A glimpse of Goose Pond, over to Pine Hill (up the steep paved road to the reservoir) back into the woods, and instead of heading towards the Thoreau Institute (a 5 minute walk), we wandered in the direction of Flint's Pond on Pine Hill Trail.   We crossed Sandy Pond Road and tried to find a path by Sandy/Flint's but it seemed abandoned or "ruined" in many ways by a woman who had been walking her dog there, and tried to rescue it from broken ice and died herself.  Her parents sued and now the "No Trespassing" signs are less intimidating than the actual amount of bushwacking required.

We wandered back into the woods and back out, onto Granville Road, walked by Gropius House (both), down Baker Bridge Road, by the CSA farm fields, crossed 126/Concord Rd and back onto Walden Forest Territory.  We walked past some numbered trees (?) and a bog to the railroad tracks, near the beaver pond.  We crossed the tracks to get to the other side of the pipe outlet (Jean fell), back over, we were walking back, tired. Saw that some trees had been taken out by humans, removed completely was the one who had been leaning on the crook of another tree.  Beaver's Madness.  We then saw two of them, swimming separately, in separate directions.   Saw Cotton Weed, which felt like a rabbit's foot, complete with fake bunny bones (hopefully, I had just gotten cheap rabbit's feet in my life).  We walked 4.6 miles, avg 2.3 mph.

Decordova

I took Clay Classes at Decordova (est 1930) as a child; I still stare at a mask I made that stares back at me.  And I have a glazed version of my family living room, circa 1983.

I went back there on Free First Wednesday with my best friend from childhood, Julie, and her 3 kids (!)  They are 7, 4 and 2.  Very intelligent and curious.  Eager to seek out the labels for each sculpture and wanting to identify the materials of the ones inside.  It was exciting to see them so excited and it was so easy to immediately let the years of being out of touch slip away. Children demand your attention so fully in the moment that past regrets no longer weigh you down.  The elephant in the room is no match for the screaming 2 year old who demands your attention.

I have no memory of fully exploring the grounds as a kid, only a vague sense that one day there were crowds of kids whose parents were artistic and hippie-like and who lived an existence I knew nothing about.  I remember being scared/thrilled by art I didn't understand.  And I was pulled away, we didn't have time or maybe my parents weren't interested.  They were different from who we were somehow.

Walden's Rainy Birthday Spent in Concord

I would love to say I have swum in Walden today.  And I have, but only metaphorically, inside the pages of the book, not the pond itself.  Today, in Concord, the sky was full of rain, so Walden was falling on us, all around.

Personally, I opened my copy of Walden this morning and found Henry being honest from the beginning.  He "lived a mile away" from society when he was writing "the bulk" of these pages (he wrote, but then went through several editions & edited like crazy!).  He had returned after 2 years, 2 months and 2 days (a phrase which I've only begun 'listening' to within the past year or so, although I've probably 'heard' it my whole life.)  Those who scoff at him for being too close to home and letting his mom do his laundry haven't read him lately.  He's honest up front.

I then went to Concord, which always means a ride past Walden itself.  In the rain, it turns silver.

Starving and went to Helen's (est. 1936) the best restaurant on Main Street, a big grand window to the street.  My favorite waitress, who usually wears a frown and seems busy no matter how many customers she has, seemed to welcome me in.  I don't know that I've been there more than 10 times in the past 5 years, but she recognized me!  I told her I was writing a play about Henry and asked what she'd say if he walked in.  "How the hell ya been?" she said with a laugh.  I finally asked her what her name was, she said it's Helen.  Her GRANDMOTHER started the place in the 30's.  It was always known as a bakery before that.  I had a Cuban and some coffee.  An excellent place to go.

I put more money in the meter outside my car and ran to the Concord Bookshop (est,1940).  I purchased a copy of "The Peabody Sisters" and a hardcover of "Margaret Fuller" by the same author, her writing speaks to me in a way that makes me think it will be a pleasure to read.  And I have decided to follow my pleasures, especially understanding that they will turn my work into pleasure gradually.

At the Concord Museum I was welcomed from the storm by a nice little old lady volunteer who was happy to take my money for the Museum and the Emerson House.  ($15) There was a great exhibit upstairs about Phenology, which is the study of periodic plant and animal life cycle events and how these are influenced by seasonal & interannual variations in climate, as well as habitat factors.

I ran into someone who claimed that he was writing a book about Susan Fenimore Cooper, who was writing about nature 10 years before Thoreau.  his friend called Henry "the James Dean" of the Transcendentalists, for having died so young and stealing everyone else's glory.

They have some fancy dining rooms (which put me off) but they also have a recreated Emerson study with all of his genuine artifacts.  Somehow, when I poked my head in, I heard voices.  Good voices, enthusiastic ones, eager to talk about life and nature and how we are all connected.   The intelligent/sympathetic people at the museum must've had the same instincts I did, because they also installed a button with a minute of recorded actors.  Including a phrase from Margaret Fuller, "I love to sit in your library without you, "  the words & feelings work just as well as if Emerson were there.

I drove by Emerson's house to the way to the Old Manse.  Apparently, both have hourly tours and you are not allowed to go into the house otherwise. Walked around in the rain, saw a rabbit, heard the trees in the wind and knew a bigger mess of rain was coming my way.  But it was still a warm, lovely August rain.  All in all, I didn't mind.

ReReading and Virgin Reading All Things Thoreau

I have always had a copy of Walden in my beach bag whenever I go to swim there.  I have done this since at least my early teenage years.  So my most common exposure to the book is as a multimedia piece, designed to be enjoyed after a swim, in the sun, sand between the toes.

Doing research for a play about Henry (and other writers/Transcendentalist who are sneaking into the picture as well)  I am finally getting to "A Week on The Concord & Merrimack Rivers" (1849), which he wrote about a journey (in 1839) with John, his beloved brother who had died (in 1842).

The first thing that catches my eye is the mention of the word "brother".

Where'er thou sail'st who sailed with me,
     Though now thou climbest loftier mounts,
     And fairer rivers dost ascend,
     Be thou my Muse, my Brother--.

The second is "A far Azore".  My mother and her side of the family are from the Azores!!!  They are in the middle of the Atlantic, nobody goes there and it is a series of visual jewels placed on the earth.  

I am bound, I am bound, for a distant shore,
     By a lonely isle, by a far Azore,
     There it is, there it is, the treasure I seek,
     On the barren sands of a desolate creek.

Thoreau does indeed know his world, both near and far.  I am amazed by how much I have learned from him, and have yet to learn.

Walking In Ft Tryon Park, NYC

New York City has a series of parkland near the northern tip. 

I'm lucky to live near 3 areas: 

Ft Washington Park which is part of the path system around the island. It's just down by the river, under the George Washington Bridge and the Little Red Lighthouse.  The Bridge itself is a massive piece of sculpture, and once you are underneath it, the river reveals stunning views to the south (the City) and the North (The Palisades).

Inwood Hill Park: a huge track of land, which includes the site of Peter Minuit's trade of $30 in shells to the Native Americans for the island of Manahatta.  Vast stretches of its paths have become slightly overgrown, or at least returned to an 'unpaved" state.  It's the closest you can easily get to what the island looked like before humans drastically changed the scenery.

Ft Tryon:  A former Rockefeller estate, it became a public park in 1935 and still has gardens designed by Frederick Law Olmsted Jr.  In 1985, after years of deterioration, they were restored to the original plans and contain a marvelously & lovingly sculpted area: The Heather Garden.

You can find out what's in bloom every month, they post it online.  Heather was chosen as the primary planting to save the views of the river.

Today I went on a guided tour with Leslie Day, who is the author of several books including Field Guide to the Natural World of New York.  Amazing how much is there, in terms of variety, history and stories of use of each of the plants.  

New York is paved with cement, but glory is to be found in the many natural spots remaining.

My Philosophy

I suppose one HAS a philosophy whether one realizes it or not.  Setting it out in print makes it seem more formal, and hopefully can offer some disambiguation to one's acquaintances.

My inclination towards friendship involves a person who:

A) Accepts and REJOICES in the differences among people/s

B) Says "Yes", and is willing to try and seek out new experiences

C) Encourages empathy within themselves and others.

For a larger society, I hope and believe in people who:

A) Easily tolerate differences, especially across groups which are strange to them

B) Encourages a variety of approaches based on rational evidence (ie based on experience or emotion or pragmatic reason, rather than blind faith in tradition or stagnation)

C) Disowns the idea of empathy (ie"I can't understand (and won't) why people choose X")

I would rather have people in my circle who are diverse, who say yes and who put themselves in the shoes of a stranger.  I find these aspects will draw out the best in me as well, and the societal pressure will encourage and help me to exist as a more actualized person.

Recently I have noticed a strong visceral reaction in myself to these things, whether it is a friend who says "I cannot imagine why all religious people believe that all atheists are amoral" (and refuses to try to put herself into that line of reasoning to advance to a higher level of argumentation), or someone who professes ignorance loudly about a fact (and will not be moved from her claim to the "fact", despite who it may hurt and despite all evidence that her entire reasoning is faulty (ie a certain people are "going extinct" despite all evidence to the contrary.  Citing the most recent census or trends in numbers provides nothing but a bad interpretation of "damn statistics").  Even TV, Movies, Video Games and mass media are a closed system.  Once you buy into them, you are operating within the judgments of a "mainstream" mindset.  You may reach "higher level" conclusions, but they may be delivered and received as a tagline from a bad joke.  And your philosophy will be delivered to your door like Dominoes.

Diet also seems to be a divisive line.  Food as a moral choice seems to be everywhere.  (Fat shame, carb shame, fest food nation, hyper-local hyper-conscious) Older people, in my experience, who have had limited contact with a variety of foods (fish, vegetables, etc) will assume that pills are needed to help them digest certain varieties or will avoid whole food groups altogether.  

I get indigestion when I hear people proudly proclaiming that they have not tried certain vegetables.  Unless one has a strong suspicion that something is poisonous (like a mushroom) or detrimental to one’s system, everything should be explored, especially at a young age.  

But again, not forced upon people.  I myself have a mild dislike of beer and wine.  Both are tolerable, and if I want alcohol, I’d prefer an Appletini (which will trigger plenty bias alarms out there).  But to categorically state, “I’ve just noticed that people who don’t drink are less fun” is to ignore the work of AA, as well as to deny someone their preferences.

Food biases can be indicative of hesitation in other areas, certainly.  And if one cannot have a meal with another, that is certainly grounds for incompatibility.

Personally, I have found the above issues to trigger visceral reactions within me.  And I am always interested to explore and identify the boundaries of my own biases, as well as define them for others who choose to interact with me.

PS I dislike Philosophy.  (Although I have investigated it in the past and apparently will dive in myself)  When given the choice, I prefer concrete facts (i.e. in exposition).  I beg forgiveness of anyone who believes that I am a hypocrite (which I here admit).  Or if I have offended anyone.  The specifics were for illustrative purposes.  To remind myself of past lessons.