The Ponds

arkablethatwecanlookdownonitssurface.Weshall,perhaps,lookdownthusonthesurfaceofairatlength,andmarkwhereastillsubtlerspiritsweepsoverit. Theskatersandwater-bugsfinallydisappearinthelatterpartofOctober,whentheseverefrostshavecomeandthenandinNovember,usually,inacalmday,thereisabsolutelynothingtoripplethesurface.OneNovemberafternoon,inthecalmattheendofarainstormofseveraldays’duration,whentheskywasstillcompletelyovercastandtheairwasfullofmist,Iobservedthatthepondwasremarkablysmooth,sothatitwasdifficulttodistinguishitssurfacethoughitnolongerreflectedthebrighttintsofOctober,butthesombreNovembercolorsofthesurroundinghills.ThoughIpassedoveritasgentlyaspossible,theslightundulationsproducedbymyboatextendedalmostasfarasIcouldsee,andgavearibbedappearancetothereflections.But,asIwaslookingoverthesurface,Isawhereandthereatadistanceafaintglimmer,asifsomeskaterinsectswhichhadescapedthefrostsmightbecollectedthere,or,perchance,thesurface,beingsosmooth,betrayedwhereaspringwelledupfromthebottom.Paddlinggentlytooneoftheseplaces,Iwassurprisedtofindmyselfsurroundedbymyriadsofsmallperch,aboutfiveincheslong,ofarichbronzecolorinthegreenwater,sportingthere,andconstantlyrisingtothesurfaceanddimplingit,sometimesleavingbubblesonit.Insuchtransparentandseeminglybottomlesswater,reflectingtheclouds,Iseemedtobefloatingthroughtheairasinaballoon,andtheirswimmingimpressedmeasakindofflightorhovering,asiftheywereacompactflockofbirdspassingjustbeneathmylevelontherightorleft,theirfins,likesails,setallaroundthem.Thereweremanysuchschoolsinthepond,apparentlyimprovingtheshortseasonbeforewinterwoulddrawanicyshutterovertheirbroadskylight,sometimesgivingtothesurfaceanappearanceasifaslightbreezestruckit,orafewrain-dropsfellthere.WhenIapproachedcarelesslyandalarmedthem,theymadeasuddensplashandripplingwiththeirtails,asifonehadstruckthewaterwithabrushybough,andinstantlytookrefugeinthedepths.Atlengththewindrose,themistincreased,andthewavesbegantorun,andtheperchleapedmuchhigherthanbefore,halfoutofwater,ahundredblackpoints,threeincheslong,atonceabovethesurface.EvenaslateasthefifthofDecember,oneyear,Isawsomedimplesonthesurface,andthinkingitwasgoingtorainhardimmediately,theairbeingfullofmist,Imadehastetotakemyplaceattheoarsandrowhomewardalreadytherainseemedrapidlyincreasing,thoughIfeltnoneonmycheek,andIanticipatedathoroughsoaking.Butsuddenlythedimplesceased,fortheywereproducedbytheperch,whichthenoiseofmyoarshadsearedintothedepths,andIsawtheirschoolsdimlydisappearingsoIspentadryafternoonafterall. Anoldmanwhousedtofrequentthispondnearlysixtyyearsago,whenitwasdarkwithsurroundingforests,tellsmethatinthosedayshesometimessawitallalivewithducksandotherwaterfowl,andthatthereweremanyeaglesaboutit.Hecameherea-fishing,andusedanoldlogcanoewhichhefoundontheshore.Itwasmadeoftwowhite-pinelogsdugoutandpinnedtogether,andwascutoffsquareattheends.Itwasveryclumsy,butlastedagreatmanyyearsbeforeitbecamewater-loggedandperhapssanktothebottom.Hedidnotknowwhoseitwasitbelongedtothepond.Heusedtomakeacableforhisanchorofstripsofhickorybarktiedtogether.Anoldman,apotter,wholivedbythepondbeforetheRevolution,toldhimoncethattherewasanironchestatthebottom,andthathehadseenit.Sometimesitwouldcomefloatinguptotheshorebutwhenyouwenttowardit,itwouldgobackintodeepwateranddisappear.Iwaspleasedtohearoftheoldlogcanoe,whichtooktheplaceofanIndianoneofthesamematerialbutmoregracefulconstruction,whichperchancehadfirstbeenatreeonthebank,andthen,asitwere,fellintothewater,tofloatthereforageneration,themostpropervesselforthelake.IrememberthatwhenIfirstlookedintothesedepthsthereweremanylargetrunkstobeseenindistinctlylyingonthebottom,whichhadeitherbeenblownoverformerly,orleftontheiceatthelastcutting,whenwoodwascheaperbutnowtheyhavemostlydisappeared. WhenIfirstpaddledaboatonWalden,itwascompletelysurroundedbythickandloftypineandoakwoods,andinsomeofitscovesgrapevineshadrunoverthetreesnextthewaterandformedbowersunderwhichaboatcouldpass.Thehillswhichformitsshoresaresosteep,andthewoodsonthemwerethensohigh,that,asyoulookeddownfromthewestend,ithadtheappearanceofanamphitheatreforsomekindofsylvanspectacle.Ihavespentmanyanhour,whenIwasyounger,floatingoveritssurfaceasthezephyrwilled,havingpaddledmyboattothemiddle,andlyingonmybackacrosstheseats,inasummerforenoon,dreamingawake,untilIwasarousedbytheboattouchingthesand,andIarosetoseewhatshoremyfateshadimpelledmetodayswhenidlenesswasthemostattractiveandproductiveindustry.ManyaforenoonhaveIstolenaway,preferringtospendthusthemostvaluedpartofthedayforIwasrich,ifnotinmoney,insunnyhoursandsummerdays,andspentthemlavishlynordoIregretthatIdidnotwastemoreofthemintheworkshoportheteacher’sdesk.ButsinceIleftthoseshoresthewoodchoppershavestillfurtherlaidthemwaste,andnowformanyayeartherewillbenomoreramblingthroughtheaislesofthewood,withoccasionalvistasthroughwhichyouseethewater.MyMusemaybeexcusedifsheissilenthenceforth.Howcanyouexpectthebirdstosingwhentheirgrovesarecutdown? Nowthetrunksoftreesonthebottom,andtheoldlogcanoe,andthedarksurroundingwoods,aregone,andthevillagers,whoscarcelyknowwhereitlies,insteadofgoingtothepondtobatheordrink,arethinkingtobringitswater,whichshouldbeassacredastheGangesatleast,tothevillageinapipe,towashtheirdisheswith!—toearntheirWaldenbytheturningofacockordrawingofaplug!ThatdevilishIronHorse,whoseear-rendingneighisheardthroughoutthetown,hasmuddiedtheBoilingSpringwithhisfoot,andheitisthathasbrowsedoffallthewoodsonWaldenshore,thatTrojanhorse,withathousandmeninhisbelly,introducedbymercenaryGreeks!Whereisthecountry’schampion,theMooreofMooreHill,tomeethimattheDeepCutandthrustanavenginglancebetweentheribsofthebloatedpest? Nevertheless,ofallthecharactersIhaveknown,perhapsWaldenwearsbest,andbestpreservesitspurity.Manymenhavebeenlikenedtoit,butfewdeservethathonor.Thoughthewoodchoppershavelaidbarefirstthisshoreandthenthat,andtheIrishhavebuilttheirstiesbyit,andtherailroadhasinfringedonitsborder,andtheice-menhaveskimmeditonce,itisitselfunchanged,thesamewaterwhichmyyouthfuleyesfellonallthechangeisinme.Ithasnotacquiredonepermanentwrinkleafterallitsripples.Itisperenniallyyoung,andImaystandandseeaswallowdipapparentlytopickaninsectfromitssurfaceasofyore.Itstruckmeagaintonight,asifIhadnotseenitalmostdailyformorethantwentyyears,—Why,hereisWalden,thesamewoodlandlakethatIdiscoveredsomanyyearsagowhereaforestwascutdownlastwinteranotherisspringingupbyitsshoreaslustilyaseverthesamethoughtiswellinguptoitssurfacethatwasthenitisthesameliquidjoyandhappinesstoitselfanditsMaker,ay,anditmaybetome.Itistheworkofabravemansurely,inwhomtherewasnoguile!Heroundedthiswaterwithhishand,deepenedandclarifieditinhisthought,andinhiswillbequeathedittoConcord.IseebyitsfacethatitisvisitedbythesamereflectionandIcanalmostsay,Walden,isityou? Itisnodreamofmine, Toornamentaline IcannotcomenearertoGodandHeaven ThanIlivetoWaldeneven. Iamitsstonyshore, Andthebreezethatpasseso’er Inthehollowofmyhand Areitswateranditssand, Anditsdeepestresort Lieshighinmythought. ThecarsneverpausetolookatityetIfancythattheengineersandfiremenandbrakemen,andthosepassengerswhohaveaseasonticketandseeitoften,arebettermenforthesight.Theengineerdoesnotforgetatnight,orhisnaturedoesnot,thathehasbeheldthisvisionofserenityandpurityonceatleastduringtheday.Thoughseenbutonce,ithelpstowashoutState-streetandtheengine’ssoot.Oneproposesthatitbecalled“God’sDrop.” IhavesaidthatWaldenhasnovisibleinletnoroutlet,butitisontheonehanddistantlyandindirectlyrelatedtoFlint’sPond,whichismoreelevated,byachainofsmallpondscomingfromthatquarter,andontheotherdirectlyandmanifestlytoConcordRiver,whichislower,byasimilarchainofpondsthroughwhichinsomeothergeologicalperioditmayhaveflowed,andbyalittledigging,whichGodforbid,itcanbemadetoflowthitheragain.Ifbylivingthusreservedandaustere,likeahermitinthewoods,solong,ithasacquiredsuchwonderfulpurity,whowouldnotregretthatthecomparativelyimpurewatersofFlint’sPondshouldbemingledwithit,oritselfshouldevergotowasteitssweetnessintheoceanwave? Flint’s,orSandyPond,inLincoln,ourgreatestlakeandinlandsea,liesaboutamileeastofWalden.Itismuchlarger,beingsaidtocontainonehundredandninety-sevenacres,andismorefertileinfishbutitiscomparativel