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1Since the woodcutters, and the railroad, and I myself have profaned Walden, perhaps the most attractive, if not the most
2beautiful, of all our lakes, the gem of the woods, is White Pond;--a poor name from its commonness, whether derived from
3the remarkable purity of its waters or the color of its sands. In these as in other respects, however, it is a lesser
4twin of Walden. They are so much alike that you would say they must be connected under ground. It has the same stony
5shore, and its waters are of the same hue. As at Walden, in sultry dog-day weather, looking down through the woods on
6some of its bays which are not so deep but that the reflection from the bottom tinges them, its waters are of a misty
7bluish-green or glaucous color. Many years since I used to go there to collect the sand by cart-loads, to make
8sand-paper with, and I have continued to visit it ever since. One who frequents it proposes to call it Virid Lake.
9Perhaps it might be called Yellow-Pine Lake, from the following circumstance. About fifteen years ago you could see the
10top of a pitch-pine, of the kind called yellow-pine hereabouts, though it is not a distinct species, projecting above
11the surface in deep water, many rods from the shore. It was even supposed by some that the pond had sunk, and this was
12one of the primitive forest that formerly stood there. I find that even so long ago as 1792, in a "Topographical
13Description of the Town of Concord," by one of its citizens, in the Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society,
14the author, after speaking of Walden and White Ponds, adds: "In the middle of the latter may be seen, when the water is
15very low, a tree which appears as if it grew in the place where it now stands, although the roots are fifty feet below
16the surface of the water; the top of this tree is broken off, and at that place measures fourteen inches in diameter."
17In the spring of '49 I talked with the man who lives nearest the pond in Sudbury, who told me that it was he who got out
18this tree ten or fifteen years before. As near as he could remember, it stood twelve or fifteen rods from the shore,
19where the water was thirty or forty feet deep. It was in the winter, and he had been getting out ice in the forenoon,
20and had resolved that in the afternoon, with the aid of his neighbors, he would take out the old yellow-pine. He sawed a
21channel in the ice toward the shore, and hauled it over and along and out on to the ice with oxen; but, before he had
22gone far in his work, he was surprised to find that it was wrong end upward, with the stumps of the branches pointing
23down, and the small end firmly fastened in the sandy bottom. It was about a foot in diameter at the big end, and he had
24expected to get a good saw-log, but it was so rotten as to be fit only for fuel, if for that. He had some of it in his
25shed then. There were marks of an axe and of woodpeckers on the butt. He thought that it might have been a dead tree on
26the shore, but was finally blown over into the pond, and after the top had become waterlogged, while the butt-end was
27still dry and light, had drifted out and sunk wrong end up. His father, eighty years old, could not remember when it was
28not there. Several pretty large logs may still be seen lying on the bottom, where, owing to the undulation of the
29surface, they look like huge water snakes in motion. This pond has rarely been profaned by a boat, for there is little
30in it to tempt a fisherman. Instead of the white lily, which requires mud, or the common sweet flag, the blue flag (Iris
31versicolor) grows thinly in the pure water, rising from the stony bottom all around the shore, where it is visited by
32humming birds in June; and the color both of its bluish blades and its flowers, and especially their reflections, are in
33singular harmony with the glaucous water. White Pond and Walden are great crystals on the surface of the earth, Lakes of
34Light. If they were permanently congealed, and small enough to be clutched, they would, perchance, be carried off by
35slaves, like precious stones, to adorn the heads of emperors; but being liquid, and ample, and secured to us and our
36successors forever, we disregard them, and run after the diamond of Kohinoor. They are too pure to have a market value;
37they contain no muck. How much more beautiful than our lives, how much more transparent than our characters, are they!
38We never learned meanness of them. How much fairer than the pool before the farmer's door, in which his ducks swim!
39Hither the clean wild ducks come. Nature has no human inhabitant who appreciates her. The birds with their plumage and
40their notes are in harmony with the flowers, but what youth or maiden conspires with the wild luxuriant beauty of
41Nature? She flourishes most alone, far from the towns where they reside. Talk of heaven! ye disgrace earth.
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