April 14, 2017
It is now perfectly calm. The different parts of Fair Haven Pond — the pond, the meadow beyond the button- bush and willow curve, the island, and the meadow between the island and mainland with its own defining lines — are all parted off like the parts of a mirror. A fish hawk is calmly sailing over all, looking for his prey. The gulls are all gone now, though the water is high, but I can see the motions of a muskrat on the calm sunny surface a great way off. So perfectly calm and beautiful, and yet no man looking at it this morning but myself. It is pleasant to see the zephyrs strike the smooth surface of the pond from time to time, and a darker shade ripple over it.
The streams break up . . .
Ice goes to the sea.
The fish hawk sails overhead
looking for his prey.
A perfectly calm
morning yet no man looking
at it but myself.
Aprill 14, 1852
So perfectly calm,
yet no man but myself sees
the Pond this morning.
Now a tinge of green
on the bared meadows and hills
peeps through the russet
I steer down straight through
the Great Meadows with the wind
almost directly aft.
April 14, 2017
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau
"A book, each page written in its own season,
out-of-doors, in its own locality.”
~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx © 2009-2019
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