Chapter 69 Lake - 7

When I first rowed on Walden Pond, it was completely surrounded on all sides by thick and tall pines and oaks, and in some of the valleys vines climbed over the trees to form arbors under which boats could pass. .The mountains that formed the lake shore were so steep and the trees on them were so high that, looking down from the west end, it looked like an amphitheater, and some mountain and forest dramas could be staged on the water.When I was younger, I spent a lot of time there, floating on the lake like a gentle breeze. I first rowed the boat to the middle of the lake, and then leaned back on the seat. On a summer morning, it was like a dream I am awake till the boat strikes the sand and startles me, and I rise to see to what shore fate has pushed me; in those days idleness is the most seductive occupation, it It is also the most abundant.I spent many mornings sneaking away like this.I would rather squander thus the most precious hours of the day, the days of the morning; for I am rich, though this has nothing to do with money, but I am rich with the hours of sunshine and the moon and sun of summer, and I squander them; I do not regret at all that they were not wasted more in the workshop, or on the teacher's platform.However, since I left this lake shore, the woodcutters have begun to cut down.From then on, it will be impossible for many years to wander on the southern road in the forest, and it will be impossible to see the lake occasionally from such a forest.My muse could be forgiven if she was silent.How can songbirds be expected to sing when the forest has been felled?

Now, the tree trunks at the bottom of the lake, the ancient canoes, and the surrounding trees in the dark are all gone. The villagers didn't even know where the lake was, but instead of running to the lake to swim or drink water, they thought of it. A pipe was used to lead the lake water to the village to wash dishes for them.This is water as holy as that of the Ganges!And they want to turn a switch, pull a plug and use Walden's water!That devilish Iron Horse, whose ear-drum-splitting sound is heard all over the town, which has muddied the Boiling Spring with his dirty footsteps, has devoured the trees on Walden Bank ; This Trojan horse, with a thousand people hiding in its belly, was all thought up by those Greeks who were doing business!Where to find, oh, the warriors of this country, the Moors of Moor's Hall, to throw vengeful javelins in the ribs of the haughty plague-god in the deepest wound called the Deep Cut?

And yet, of the characters we know of, perhaps only Walden has held out the longest, has kept it pure for the longest time.Many people have been likened to Walden Pond, but only a few can deserve it.Though the loggers have cleared this shore and then that, and the Irish have built their shanties there, and the railroad has encroached on its frontiers, and the icemen have once iced it, It itself has not changed, the same lake I saw in my youth; I have changed.It has so many ripples, but not a single permanent wrinkle.It's forever young, and I can still stand there and see a swallow swoop down to pick up a bug from the water, just like before.This feeling assailed me again to-night, as if I hadn't been with it almost every day for more than twenty years--oh, this is Walden, or the forest I found so many years ago. A middle lake; here, a forest was felled last winter, another forest has sprung up, and it is still growing luxuriously by the lake; Joy, inner joy, creator's joy, yes, it could be my joy.Of course, this lake is the work of a great brave man, and there is no trace of hypocrisy in it!He surrounded the lake with his hands, deepened and clarified it in his thoughts, and bequeathed it to Concord in his will.I saw the same reflection again on its water, and I almost said, Walden, is that you?

This is not my dream, to decorate a line of poetry; I can't get any closer to God and heaven Better than my life at Walden. I am its pebble shore, the wind blowing by; A grip in my palm, its water, its sand, And its deepest recesses Lying high in my thoughts. The train never stops to enjoy the scenery of the lake and mountains; however, I think those drivers, firemen, brakemen and those passengers who bought monthly tickets often see it, and they will appreciate the scenery to some extent.The driver hadn't forgotten it at night, or rather his nature hadn't forgotten it, and he had caught at least one glimpse of this majestic, chaste view during the day.Even if all he saw was a glimpse, it would wash the grease off State Street and the engine.It has been suggested that the lake could be called "a drop of the gods".

I have said that Walden Pond cannot see its origins and consequences, but on the one hand it is distantly and indirectly connected with Pond Manringt, which is higher, and through which a series of small ponds pass, and on the other side. Apparently it is directly connected with the Concord River, which is lower, but also has a series of small lakes and marshes running through it. In another geological age, it may have flooded, but with a little digging, it can still The streams come here, but God forbid such excavation, if the lake is so reserved and self-respecting, and has lived so long like a hermit in the forest, and thus acquired such a magical purity, if the lake of Flint is less Who would not complain if the pure waters of the lake flowed to it, and its own sweet waves flowed to the sea?