Walden open today.

March 29.

P.M. — To Walden and river.

Walden open, say to-day, though there is still a little ice in the deep southern bay and a very narrow edging along the southern shore.

Cross through the woods to my boat under Fair Haven Hill. How empty and silent the woods now, before leaves have put forth or thrushes and warblers are come! Deserted halls, floored with dry leaves, where scarcely an insect stirs as yet.

Taking an average of eight winters, it appears that Walden is frozen about ninety-eight days in the year.

When I have put my boat in its harbor, I hear that sign-squeaking blackbird, and, looking up, see half a dozen on the top of the elm at the foot of Whiting’s lot. They are not red-wings, and by their size they make me think of crow blackbirds, yet on the whole I think them grackles (?). Possibly those I heard on the 18th were the same ?? Does the red-wing ever make a noise like a rusty sign?

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 29, 1857

Walden open today. See March 14, 1860 ("No sooner has the ice of Walden melted than the wind begins to play in dark ripples over the surface of the virgin water. Ice dissolved is the next moment as perfect water as if melted a million years.”); March 20, 1853 ("It is glorious to behold the life and joy of this ribbon of water sparkling in the sun. The wind ... raises a myriad brilliant sparkles on the bare face of the pond, an expression of glee, of youth, of spring, as if it spoke the joy of the fishes within it and of the sands on its shore. It is the contrast between life and death. There is the difference between winter and spring. The bared face of the pond sparkles with joy.");   March 26, 1857 ("Walden is already on the point of breaking up. In the shallow bays it is melted six or eight rods out, and the ice looks dark and soft.”); March 28, 1858 (“Walden is open. When? On the 20th it was pretty solid. C. sees a very little ice in it to-day, but probably it gets entirely free to-night.”); March 29, 1855 ("As I stand on Heywood’s Peak, looking over Walden, more than half its surface already sparkling blue water, I inhale with pleasure the cold but wholesome air like a draught of cold water”); March 29, 1857 ("Walden open, say to-day, though there is still a little ice in the deep southern bay and a very narrow edging along the southern shore.”);  March 29, 1859 ("Walden is first clear after to-day.”);  March 31, 1855 ("Yesterday the earth was simple to barrenness, and dead, —bound out. Out-of-doors there was nothing but the wind and the withered grass and the cold though sparkling blue water, and you were driven in upon yourself. Now you would think that there was a sudden awakening in the very crust of the earth, as if flowers were expanding and leaves putting forth... We feel as if we had obtained a new lease of life. Looking from the Cliffs I see that Walden is open to-day first."); April 18, 1856 ("Walden is open entirely to-day for the first time, owing to the rain of yesterday and evening. I have observed its breaking up of different years commencing in ’45, and the average date has been April 4th.“)

In 1845 Walden was first completely open on the 1st of April;

in '46, the 25th of March;
in '47, the 8th of April;
in '51, the 28th of March;
in '52, the 18th of April;
in '53, the 23rd of March;
in '54, about the 7th of April. ~ Walden.



See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Ice-out