26 Dec 2022

Today I went to Walden Pond. It’s a bit of a famous body of water here in Massachusetts as it was home to Henry David Thoreau for over two years (2 years, 2 months, and 2 days, to be exact). He actually lived in a little cabin on land owned by Ralph Waldo Emerson who allowed Thoreau to conduct his experiment there.

At Walden Pond is where he wrote down his thoughts about life, which were compiled into a book of the same name. I bought that book today in search for words to attach to my feelings of wandering.

I walked along the edge of the pond, all the way around. It was clear and crisp with fresh winter air - the kind of air that makes for a good night’s sleep.

I skipped rocks.

I broke icicles into little pieces.

I listened to my footsteps on the forest floor, hearing how the pitch changes depending upon if I focus on my left foot first or my right.

I wondered whether I could live so simply.

Is this for me?