When visiting Walden Pond, Bring a Swimsuit…bucket list cont.


Before attending university I visited Walden in book form.  Later, I was quite pleased when a college professor, way back when, assigned it as both, required reading, and material to draw from for a reflective essay.  At that time in my life, while re-reading Henry David Thoreau’s literary masterpiece, I decided some day I would visit Walden Pond.

That visit to a pond, which seemed more the size of lake, finally came to be on a slightly breezy, yet warm, June day in 2017. On that morning, Walden Pond looked bluer than the skies above it, while swimmers, and sunbathers enjoyed the tranquility Thoreau had come to know in the time he spent there. Still the slight breeze left the pond rippled, rather than still, and photographic reflections from around the lake waned.

Upon returning home, I dug through an old box of college essays and poetry, I have kept all these years to compare my actual visit with my reflective essay on the book. Of course I never imagined swimmers in the pond, as Thoreau was there alone, yet the additional noise brought about by both children, and adults did not dampen the beauty, or serenity the pond holds.

The serenity of the pond was what Thoreau imparted to his reader, through his eloquent writing and was what I attempted to reflect in the essay.  But, also in the paper I developed a theory that Thoreau went to the pond because as a writer he lacked material, and needed subject matter.

My hope now in writing this piece, and by adding a short excerpt from the paper is that I can transfer the feeling of Walden Pond I perceived so many years ago to my children, should they ever read my words here.  So here goes, an excerpt from an essay written in the previous century, by myself,  about Walden, and it’s author Henry David Thoreau.


From my essay,  Walden

I first visited, Walden, on my own time, when I was freely able to ponder Henry David Thoreau’s literary work, paragraph by paragraph, and metaphor by metaphor. I perceived Thoreau’s deliberate lifestyle to be transcendentalism’s purest form. A life in which one attempts to elevate all aspects of the inner self to perfection.

Most infer from Thoreau’s writings that he went to Walden Pond to commune with nature. The writer in myself believes instead, that his respect for the authors of classic literature was so great he wished to elevate himself to their level.  Thoreau expands on his respect for writers and the classics in the “Reading” chapter, which is strategically placed as the third chapter of the book-taking its place behind the first two chapters that explain his intentions and the location of  his planned experiment.  Thoreau believed writing to be an art form, and through authorship he could attain purity as he considered the classics  to be man’s noblest thoughts (146) while stacked books scaled the way to heaven (148).


As I wrote in the excerpt, I took a different view to what most believe. Most others think Thoreau went to Walden Pond to commune with nature, and after looking at the above photo it is difficult to disagree with that assertion.   However, that was the beauty of not seeing Walden Pond before I had to write a paper on it, and I had only his words to go by, Thoreau’s words.

Thoreau described the pond, measured it, walked its banks, monitored the weather, noted the flora and the fauna and even the position of the stars.  Now, I, too, have walked the circle round his pond and seen others unwinding with a good read, while their toes touch the cool water. I appreciated watching swimmers  stay in shape as they lapped the width or length of the pond. And, I watched  parents sunbathing while children splashed.  On that day I understood that I was correct in my assertion of so long ago, that Thoreau did need material for a book. He needed to absorb all things Walden, in essence study it in great detail in order to elevate himself to the level of the classical authors.   Walden Pond, was the place he needed to go to, to become the person he aspired to be.  Thoreau’s achievement took  him 2 years, 2 months and 2 days. On the day I was there, a slight breeze barely rippled the water as though Thoreau were present and asking all who were there, either to swim, or walk or ponder….how long it would take to become the purest person one chooses to be?

More to come….much more

Bucket List Part Three: Monticello

Driving to Monticello from DC does not take more than a couple of hours. Monticello, which is Thomas Jefferson’s home,  is in Charlottesville, Virginia.


The highway between DC and Charlottesville is smooth, more straight than windy, flanked by trees, and carpeted with ivy that reaches from the Virginia soil and spirals up and along the trunks and branches creating a thicker canopy of tree tops.
We drove through many counties, never seeing fencing between properties, playing license plate games, and laughing at the peculiarity of the county name, Fauquier, especially when we drove past the Fauquier Motel.

Yet, Monticello was our destination, and we hoped to arrive for the last house tour before day’s end.​​

 


Jefferson inherited 5000 acres from his father at the young age of 21 years and he set about to build the house, where he and his family spent so many of his future years.

Tickets to various tours are $28 and the money goes to the maintenance of Monticello and I believe other World Heritage sites.   A good percent of the original Monticello structure actually remains. Once you purchase your tickets at the visitor center you are taken up to the house to enjoy the grounds and the views that Jefferson enjoyed in his beloved Virginia.


Cameras are not allowed in the house during the  tour of Monticello, which begins in the entry hall. I did, however, take photos from the brochure I received when purchasing tickets.  (Sorry for the creasing in the pictures, the brochure was folded.) The entry hall is a grand two story room, filled with many Native American artifacts from the Lewis and Clark expedition. The artifacts are displayed among many other curiosities in the hall, including a clock invention of Jefferson’s that displays both the hour and the day.
Our house tour continued through the Parlor and Jefferson’s study and bedchamber. In the study Jefferson wrote thousands of letters and also copied them. The letters were copied with a polygraph machine that is a copying machine with two pens. When Jefferson put pen to paper another pen made a copy of the letter.
Jefferson’s bedroom or bed was built into an alcove between the study and the bedroom. The idea was a space saving design and Jefferson built it to exactly one inch longer than his own height. Jefferson would die in his bed on July 4th, 1826, fifty years to the day after the writing and signing of the Declaration of Independence.
The house tour takes about 45 minutes and there are other tours that can be taken, however we arrived too late in the day to participate in them.  One of the tours focuses on slavery at Monticello, as Thomas Jefferson did own slaves.  I’m not going to put my thoughts regarding this towering figure of liberty,  yet a slave owner,  on that subject into this blog as I can imagine you all know how I feel about this horrible reality of United States history. Instead, I’m adding a photo of the Hemings cabin in juxtaposition to Jefferson’s bedchamber photo.  Sadly, I do believe Jefferson’s study and bedchamber to be larger than the cabin.

We did have enough time at the end of the tour to go below the house and see the privy…yes the privy, the ice house, and the beer and wine cellars, and meander the trails a little.

Jefferson’s burial site is also on the grounds of Monticello along with the Jefferson Family Cemetery. The family cemetery is still used today. The walk to Jefferson’s gravesite is about 1/2 mile from the house winding on a path lined with trees and benches for rest.


It is a somber moment when one arrives at the grave of Thomas Jefferson, Founding Father, one of the Framers of the the US Constitution,  author of the Declaration of Independence, and third President of the United States. Yet, he chose his own epitaph, which deliberately excluded his Presidency.

 Many, toss coins onto Jefferson’s grave as a way to make sure Jefferson has money to pay for his after-life ferry ride.  Tim and I did so also,  as we have much to be thankful for living in the most magnificent country on Earth.