BLS Diaries: Infinite Souls by Harris Backer

From WALDEN by Henry David Thoreau


    This is a delicious evening, when the whole body is one sense,
and imbibes delight through every pore.  I go and come with a
strange liberty in Nature, a part of herself.  As I walk along the
stony shore of the pond in my shirt-sleeves, though it is cool as
well as cloudy and windy, and I see nothing special to attract me,
all the elements are unusually congenial to me.  The bullfrogs trump
to usher in the night, and the note of the whip-poor-will is borne
on the rippling wind from over the water.  

Rain on the Bottlebrush

Charitra by the pond

Sympathy with the
fluttering alder and poplar leaves almost takes away my breath; yet,
like the lake, my serenity is rippled but not ruffled.  These small
waves raised by the evening wind are as remote from storm as the
smooth reflecting surface.  

Ripples in the Sky

Some of my pleasantest hours were during the long rain-storms in
the spring or fall, which confined me to the house for the afternoon
as well as the forenoon, soothed by their ceaseless roar and
pelting; when an early twilight ushered in a long evening in which
many thoughts had time to take root and unfold themselves. 

Pond Bioeme



I am no more lonely
than the loon in the pond that laughs so loud, or than Walden Pond
itself.  What company has that lonely lake, I pray?  And yet it has
not the blue devils, but the blue angels in it, in the azure tint of
its waters. 

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