09-the ponds-第1章
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The Ponds
Sometimes; having had a surfeit of human society and gossip; and
worn out all my village friends; I rambled still farther westward
than I habitually dwell; into yet more unfrequented parts of the
town; 〃to fresh woods and pastures new;〃 or; while the sun was
setting; made my supper of huckleberries and blueberries on Fair
Haven Hill; and laid up a store for several days。 The fruits do not
yield their true flavor to the purchaser of them; nor to him who
raises them for the market。 There is but one way to obtain it; yet
few take that way。 If you would know the flavor of huckleberries;
ask the cowboy or the partridge。 It is a vulgar error to suppose
that you have tasted huckleberries who never plucked them。 A
huckleberry never reaches Boston; they have not been known there
since they grew on her three hills。 The ambrosial and essential
part of the fruit is lost with the bloom which is rubbed off in the
market cart; and they become mere provender。 As long as Eternal
Justice reigns; not one innocent huckleberry can be transported
thither from the country's hills。
Occasionally; after my hoeing was done for the day; I joined
some impatient companion who had been fishing on the pond since
morning; as silent and motionless as a duck or a floating leaf; and;
after practising various kinds of philosophy; had concluded
commonly; by the time I arrived; that he belonged to the ancient
sect of Coenobites。 There was one older man; an excellent fisher
and skilled in all kinds of woodcraft; who was pleased to look upon
my house as a building erected for the convenience of fishermen; and
I was equally pleased when he sat in my doorway to arrange his
lines。 Once in a while we sat together on the pond; he at one end
of the boat; and I at the other; but not many words passed between
us; for he had grown deaf in his later years; but he occasionally
hummed a psalm; which harmonized well enough with my philosophy。
Our intercourse was thus altogether one of unbroken harmony; far
more pleasing to remember than if it had been carried on by speech。
When; as was commonly the case; I had none to commune with; I used
to raise the echoes by striking with a paddle on the side of my
boat; filling the surrounding woods with circling and dilating
sound; stirring them up as the keeper of a menagerie his wild
beasts; until I elicited a growl from every wooded vale and
hillside。
In warm evenings I frequently sat in the boat playing the flute;
and saw the perch; which I seem to have charmed; hovering around me;
and the moon travelling over the ribbed bottom; which was strewed
with the wrecks of the forest。 Formerly I had come to this pond
adventurously; from time to time; in dark summer nights; with a
companion; and; making a fire close to the water's edge; which we
thought attracted the fishes; we caught pouts with a bunch of worms
strung on a thread; and when we had done; far in the night; threw
the burning brands high into the air like skyrockets; which; coming
down into the pond; were quenched with a loud hissing; and we were
suddenly groping in total darkness。 Through this; whistling a tune;
we took our way to the haunts of men again。 But now I had made my
home by the shore。
Sometimes; after staying in a village parlor till the family had
all retired; I have returned to the woods; and; partly with a view
to the next day's dinner; spent the hours of midnight fishing from a
boat by moonlight; serenaded by owls and foxes; and hearing; from
time to time; the creaking note of some unknown bird close at hand。
These experiences were very memorable and valuable to me anchored
in forty feet of water; and twenty or thirty rods from the shore;
surrounded sometimes by thousands of small perch and shiners;
dimpling the surface with their tails in the moonlight; and
communicating by a long flaxen line with mysterious nocturnal fishes
which had their dwelling forty feet below; or sometimes dragging
sixty feet of line about the pond as I drifted in the gentle night
breeze; now and then feeling a slight vibration along it; indicative
of some life prowling about its extremity; of dull uncertain
blundering purpose there; and slow to make up its mind。 At length
you slowly raise; pulling hand over hand; some horned pout squeaking
and squirming to the upper air。 It was very queer; especially in
dark nights; when your thoughts had wandered to vast and cosmogonal
themes in other spheres; to feel this faint jerk; which came to
interrupt your dreams and link you to Nature again。 It seemed as if
I might next cast my line upward into the air; as well as downward
into this element; which was scarcely more dense。 Thus I caught two
fishes as it were with one hook。
The scenery of Walden is on a humble scale; and; though very
beautiful; does not approach to grandeur; nor can it much concern
one who has not long frequented it or lived by its shore; yet this
pond is so remarkable for its depth and purity as to merit a
particular description。 It is a clear and deep green well; half a
mile long and a mile and three quarters in circumference; and
contains about sixty…one and a half acres; a perennial spring in the
midst of pine and oak woods; without any visible inlet or outlet
except by the clouds and evaporation。 The surrounding hills rise
abruptly from the water to the height of forty to eighty feet;
though on the southeast and east they attain to about one hundred
and one hundred and fifty feet respectively; within a quarter and a
third of a mile。 They are exclusively woodland。 All our Concord
waters have two colors at least; one when viewed at a distance; and
another; more proper; close at hand。 The first depends more on the
light; and follows the sky。 In clear weather; in summer; they
appear blue at a little distance; especially if agitated; and at a
great distance all appear alike。 In stormy weather they are
sometimes of a dark slate…color。 The sea; however; is said to be
blue one day and green another without any perceptible change in the
atmosphere。 I have seen our river; when; the landscape being
covered with snow; both water and ice were almost as green as grass。
Some consider blue 〃to be the color of pure water; whether liquid or
solid。〃 But; looking directly down into our waters from a boat;
they are seen to be of very different colors。 Walden is blue at one
time and green at another; even from the same point of view。 Lying
between the earth and the heavens; it partakes of the color of both。
Viewed from a hilltop it reflects the color of the sky; but near at
hand it is of a yellowish tint next the shore where you can see the
sand; then a light green; which gradually deepens to a uniform dark
green in the body of the pond。 In some lights; viewed even from a
hilltop; it is of a vivid green next the shore。 Some have referred
this to the reflection of the verdure; but it is equally green there
against the railroad sandbank; and in the spring; before the leaves
are expanded; and it may be simply the result of the prevailing blue
mixed with the yellow of the sand。 Such is the color of its iris。
This is that portion; also; where in the spring; the ice being
warmed by the heat of the sun reflected from the bottom; and also
transmitted through the earth; melts first and forms a narrow canal
about the still frozen middle。 Like the rest of our waters; when
much agitated; in clear weather; so that the surface of the waves
may reflect the sky at the right angle; or because there is more
light mixed with it; it appears at a little distance of a darker
blue than the sky itself; and at such a time; being on its surface;
and looking with divided vision; so as to see the reflection; I have
discerned a matchless and indescribable light blue; such as watered
or changeable silks and sword blades suggest; more cerulean than the
sky itself; alternating wit