Every part of the world is beautiful to-day; the bright, shimmering water; the fresh, light-green grass springing up on the hills, tender, firm, moss-like before it waves; the fine light smokes, sometimes blue against the woods; the tracts where the woods have been cut the past winter; and the beautiful blue of the horizon and its mountains. Now all buds may swell, methinks; now the summer may begin for all creatures.
As I can throw my voice into my head and sing very loud and clear there, so I can throw my thought into a higher chamber, and think louder and clearer above the earth than men will understand.
I succeed best when I recur to my experience not too late, but within a day or two; when there is some distance, but enough of freshness.
May 5, 2022
A fine scarlet sunset. As I sit by my window and see the clouds reflected in the meadow, I think it is important to have water, because it multiplies the heavens.
Evening. — To the Lee place rock. Moon not up.
There goes a shooting star down towards the horizon, like a rocket, appearing to describe a curve. The water sleeps with stars in its bosom.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 5, 1852
I succeed best when I recur to my experience . . . when there is some distance, but enough of freshness. . . . See April 20, 1854 ("I find some advantage in describing the experience of a day on the day following. At this distance it is more ideal, like the landscape seen with the head inverted, or reflections in water"); January 10, 1854 ("What you can recall of a walk on the second day will differ from what you remember on the first day, ... as any view changes to one who is journeying amid mountains when he has increased the distance"); March 27, 1857 ("The men and things of to-day are wont to lie fairer and truer in to-morrow’s memory.").
Every part of the world is beautiful today. . . See May 18, 1852 ("The world can never be more beautiful than now"); August 19, 1853 ("It is a glorious and ever-memorable day"); September 18, 1860 ("If you are not happy to-day you will hardly be so to-morrow").
I succeed best when I recur to my experience . . . when there is some distance, but enough of freshness. . . . See April 20, 1854 ("I find some advantage in describing the experience of a day on the day following. At this distance it is more ideal, like the landscape seen with the head inverted, or reflections in water"); January 10, 1854 ("What you can recall of a walk on the second day will differ from what you remember on the first day, ... as any view changes to one who is journeying amid mountains when he has increased the distance"); March 27, 1857 ("The men and things of to-day are wont to lie fairer and truer in to-morrow’s memory.").
Water multiplies
the heavens – the water sleeps
with stars in its bosom.
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