Chapter 106 Spring - 2

What drew me to living in the woods was the leisure to live and the chance to see spring come.Finally, the ice in the lake began to hive, and my heels sank as soon as I stepped on it.The fog, the rain, the warm sun slowly melt the snow; you feel the days are much longer, and I see that my fuel need not be increased, enough to survive the winter, and now there is no need for a fire at all.I wait attentively for the first sign of spring, listening for the occasional note of some incoming bird, or the chirping of a striped squirrel, for its store is probably out, too, and I want to see--see How woodchucks emerged from their winter hibernation.On March thirteenth I had heard bluebirds, hedge sparrows, and red-winged thrushes, when the ice was still a foot thick.Because the weather is warmer, it is no longer washed away by the water, and it does not float like the ice in the river. Although half a rod's width along the shore has melted, the center of the lake is still like a beehive, saturated with water, six inches. When it is deep, you can walk through it with your feet; but the next night, perhaps after a warm rain followed by a dense fog, it will all disappear, go away with the fog, and give it to the world quickly and mysteriously. bought.One year, on the fifth day after my walk in the middle of the lake, it all faded away.In 1845, Walden was completely frozen on April 1; in 1846, March 25; in 1847, April 8; In 1953, on April 18th; in 1953, on March 23rd; in 1954, around April 7th.

Everything about the freezing of rivers and lakes and the coming of spring is of particular interest to us who live in such extreme climates.When the milder days come, those who live near the river can hear the cracking of the ice at night, a startling roar, like a cannon, as if all the chains of the ice were snapped, and within a few days, I saw it dissolve quickly.Just as a crocodile emerged from the mud, the earth trembled.There was an old man, a fine observer of nature, who spoke of All the vicissitudes of nature, as if he had enough wit, as if when he was but a boy nature had been placed on the ship's block, and he had helped set her keel,—he had grown up now, Even if he lived to the age of Methuselah, he would not gain much knowledge of nature.He told me that, one spring day, he got into a boat with a gun, to compete with the ducks,--I was amazed to hear him also express wonder at any change in nature,

Because I think there must be no secrets between him and nature.There was still ice on the prairie then, but the river was all gone, and he went down without hindrance from where he lived in Sudbury to Fair Haven Lake, where he suddenly found that most of it was still solid. ice.It was a mild day, and he was amazed that such a large volume of ice remained.Since there were no wild ducks in sight, he hid his boat in the north, or rather, behind a small island in the lake, while he hid himself in the bushes on the south bank, and waited for them.Three or four rods from the shore the ice had melted away and there was smooth warm water with a muddy bottom, which the ducks love, so he thought there must be mallards coming soon.Lying there motionless for about an hour, he heard a low, seemingly distant sound, strangely great and impressive, which had never been heard before, It rises slowly and intensifies, as if it will have a cosmic, unforgettable musical coda, a kind of melancholic crash and roar, to him, it seems that a large flock of birds is about to land here It was coming, so he seized the gun, and sprang to his feet, very excited; but he found, what a surprise, that a whole mass of ice, while lying down, moved, and flowed towards the shore, And what he heard was the harsh sound of its edges rubbing against the shore—softer at first, nibbling and crumbling, but then boiled up, knocking itself against the shore, The ice flakes splashed to a considerable height before falling down and returning to calm.

Finally, the sun's rays formed a right angle, and the warm wind blew away the fog and rain, and melted the snow on the lakeshore. After the fog cleared, the sun smiled at a brown and white grid-shaped landscape, and smoked The fragrant mist is still lingering.The traveler finds his way from one isle to another, enchanted by the music of a thousand murmuring brooks and brooks, in whose veins the blood of winter flows and dies.