"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front
only the essential facts of life. And see if I could not learn what it
had to teach and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not
lived." This iconic thought by Henry David Thoreau is one that has been
quoted in many an English literature class, and certainly by one Mr.
Healey, a passionate high school teacher who made a profound impact upon
me and my friend Erica, whose Massachusetts home I recently visited.
Erica and her husband Art live just outside of Boston - or, if you like,
just outside of Concord, the site of Walden Pond, which so inspired
Thoreau and, in turn, us.
We saved Concord for the second full day of my trip, a Friday; we wanted to get Boston
out of the way on Thursday, before the weekend rush, and Saturday
looked to be full of showers (though that prediction came to naught, at
least in Salem). The day dawned rainy, but the weather forecast promised
a drier afternoon, so we headed out around noon with umbrellas in hand,
just as a precaution. We'd made a Target run in the morning for a
second memory card for my camera in case my first ran out; when I
arrived at the state park, I discovered that when I placed the card in
my camera to ensure it fit, I failed to return the camera to its case.
So Erica and I shared her camera at picturesque Walden Pond as we slowly
wandered the pathways, keeping a careful eye out for animals and unique
plant formations. Because of the rain, we had to negotiate our way
around several mud puddles that filled the whole walkway, but this just
added to the sense of adventure. Meanwhile, the overcast weather cut
down on the number of visitors, so we had the trail to ourselves most of
the time, though we spotted several people splashing their way through
the pond, preferring an immersive experience of Walden.
We
didn't go in the water, but we certainly went near it, snapping several
photos of its reflective surface and peeking down at the fish swimming
near its shores. The trail (which is punctuated by signs, including an
ever-so-helpful one pointing to the perpetually visible pond) teems with
life, from wildflowers to fungus, though our most exciting discoveries
weren't quite so stationary. Eagle-eyed Erica alerted Art and me to the
presence of a large black snake with yellow stripes curled quietly in
the leaves. It kindly posed for a few pictures before slithering
languidly into the trees. Several blue jays chattered to each other from
lofty branches, and one decided to tease us by leading us onward,
always taking flight just as Erica was about to snap its picture. In one
marshy area, we heard several bullfrogs before we spotted them. There
were a couple sitting down below in the shade of the trees, and as we
crossed a makeshift bridge, one fearless frog stood inches away from us,
calmly observing our intrusion.
Of course, if you're
literarily inclined, as all three of us are in the extreme, the
highlights of Walden are Thoreau's cabins: the replica that greets
visitors as they arrive and the original site about halfway along the
trail that makes the circuit of the pond. The replica was closed when we
got there, so we contented ourselves with peering in the windows and
walking the circuit of the tiny house before posing for the obligatory
pictures with the statue of Thoreau. When we returned to the car,
however, we noticed that the cabin door was ajar, so we went to
investigate and found ourselves able to go inside and check out the
interior, with its bed, desk, stove, fireplace and broom. As an avid LOST fan, I found myself reminded of the mysterious cabin where Jacob is said to dwell. Likewise, whenever I watch season three's The Man Behind the Curtain,
when Ben warns John, upon their approach to the cabin, to turn off his
flashlight because "Jacob feels the same way about technology that you
do," I catch myself thinking about Thoreau. There's also a sign with a
list of the materials Thoreau used to build the cabin and how much they
cost. Less than thirty dollars for the whole works? Sounds all right to
me! The actual cabin site is just as neat, nestled in a small clearing
in the woods with short stone pillars marking the spot where it once
stood. The woodshed is also sectioned off. This is where you will find
the sign with the opening quote and the large pile of stones, many of
them decorated, left in Thoreau's honor. I spent several minutes
wandering around this pile, which is bigger than the cabin itself, and
reading the messages people had left on the rocks.
Before we
left, we had to stop into the gift shop. I'd been specifically warned
about the eight-dollar finger puppets, but of course, I succumbed to the
temptation of a squirrel. I also bought a deck of cards featuring
famous authors, a few postcards - sixty cents each, which is a bit on
the high end, but I wasn't able to find Walden postcards anywhere else -
and, for my peripatetic brother, Thoreau's Walking, which was on
prominent display because we'd happened to come on World Sauntering
Day. If you forget your camera like I did and don't have somebody else
in your party who remembered, the store also sells disposable cameras.
Unlike Boston and Salem, Concord isn't much of a tourist trap. Admission
to the park is only five dollars per car, and Sleepy Hollow, the other
big destination, offers free one-hour parking. It's likely this will be
the only gift shop you enter in this area, and it sells several items
you probably won't find in other places, so don't feel too badly about
spending some money there.
Sleepy Hollow Cemetery is not far
from Walden Pond, where we stayed for two or three hours. It might seem a
bit morbid that we went to a cemetery during each of the three day
trips we took during my visit, but each one features graves of
historical significance. Sleepy Hollow has Authors Ridge, where one can
find the surprisingly humble markers for Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson,
Nathaniel Hawthorne and Louisa May Alcott. There's something especially
poetic about Thoreau's tiny stone, nestled amongst the graves of his
relatives, which simply reads "HENRY". Scattered around and on top of
each of these graves are trinkets from visitors, including pennies,
pebbles and, most appropriately, pencils and pens. One hour is plenty of
time to see these famous stones, which are all clustered together, and
still have an opportunity to appreciate the unusual markers belonging to
less famous folks and drink in the natural beauty of the grounds. Among
the more striking monuments we found were a tall, stately Celtic cross
and the tiny, accidentally amusing stone bearing the initials "M. L. B."
Alas for the death of the great American pastime... We also stumbled
upon a rock memorializing "Kirkegaard", just a letter away from Soren
the philosopher. I also just discovered that this is not the Sleepy
Hollow of which Washington Irving wrote; that cemetery is in New York, a
destination for an entirely different trip.
But who needs
Irving when you've got four fantastic authors to visit? If you're a
literature lover or a nature enthusiast, Concord is a wonderful place in
which to spend the afternoon, and the price to visit Walden and Sleepy
Hollow is certainly right. If this is the way to live deliberately,
count me in!
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