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1Sometimes I rambled to pine groves, standing like temples, or like fleets at sea, full-rigged, with wavy boughs, and
2rippling with light, so soft and green and shady that the Druids would have forsaken their oaks to worship in them; or
3to the cedar wood beyond Flint's Pond, where the trees, covered with hoary blue berries, spiring higher and higher, are
4fit to stand before Valhalla, and the creeping juniper covers the ground with wreaths full of fruit; or to swamps where
5the usnea lichen hangs in festoons from the white-spruce trees, and toad-stools, round tables of the swamp gods, cover
6the ground, and more beautiful fungi adorn the stumps, like butterflies or shells, vegetable winkles; where the
7swamp-pink and dogwood grow, the red alder-berry glows like eyes of imps, the waxwork grooves and crushes the hardest
8woods in its folds, and the wild-holly berries make the beholder forget his home with their beauty, and he is dazzled
9and tempted by nameless other wild forbidden fruits, too fair for mortal taste. Instead of calling on some scholar, I
10paid many a visit to particular trees, of kinds which are rare in this neighborhood, standing far away in the middle of
11some pasture, or in the depths of a wood or swamp, or on a hill-top; such as the black-birch, of which we have some
12handsome specimens two feet in diameter; its cousin, the yellow birch, with its loose golden vest, perfumed like the
13first; the beech, which has so neat a bole and beautifully lichen-painted, perfect in all its details, of which,
14excepting scattered specimens, I know but one small grove of sizable trees left in the township, supposed by some to
15have been planted by the pigeons that were once baited with beech nuts near by; it is worth the while to see the silver
16grain sparkle when you split this wood; the bass; the hornbeam; the Celtis occidentalis, or false elm, of which we have
17but one well-grown; some taller mast of a pine, a shingle tree, or a more perfect hemlock than usual, standing like a
18pagoda in the midst of the woods; and many others I could mention. These were the shrines I visited both summer and
19winter. Once it chanced that I stood in the very abutment of a rainbow's arch, which filled the lower stratum of the
20atmosphere, tinging the grass and leaves around, and dazzling me as if I looked through colored crystal. It was a lake
21of rainbow light, in which, for a short while, I lived like a dolphin. If it had lasted longer it might have tinged my
22employments and life. As I walked on the railroad causeway, I used to wonder at the halo of light around my shadow, and
23would fain fancy myself one of the elect. One who visited me declared that the shadows of some Irishmen before him had
24no halo about them, that it was only natives that were so distinguished. Benvenuto Cellini tells us in his memoirs,
25that, after a certain terrible dream or vision which he had during his confinement in the castle of St. Angelo, a
26resplendent light appeared over the shadow of his head at morning and evening, whether he was in Italy or France, and it
27was particularly conspicuous when the grass was moist with dew. This was probably the same phenomenon to which I have
28referred, which is especially observed in the morning, but also at other times, and even by moonlight. Though a constant
29one, it is not commonly noticed, and, in the case of an excitable imagination like Cellini's, it would be basis enough
30for superstition. Beside, he tells us that he showed it to very few. But are they not indeed distinguished who are
31conscious that they are regarded at all? I set out one afternoon to go a-fishing to Fair-Haven, through the woods, to
32eke out my scanty fare of vegetables. My way led through Pleasant Meadow, an adjunct of the Baker Farm, that retreat of
33which a poet has since sung, beginning,-- "Thy entry is a pleasant field, Which some mossy fruit trees yield Partly to a
34ruddy brook, By gliding musquash undertook, And mercurial trout, Darting about." I thought of living there before I went
35to Walden. I "hooked" the apples, leaped the brook, and scared the musquash and the trout. It was one of those
36afternoons which seem indefinitely long before one, in which many events may happen, a large portion of our natural
37life, though it was already half spent when I started. By the way there came up a shower, which compelled me to stand
38half an hour under a pine, piling boughs over my head, and wearing my handkerchief for a shed; and when at length I had
39made one cast over the pickerel-weed, standing up to my middle in water, I found myself suddenly in the shadow of a
40cloud, and the thunder began to rumble with such emphasis that I could do no more than listen to it. The gods must be
41proud, thought I, with such forked flashes to rout a poor unarmed fisherman. So I made haste for shelter to the nearest
42hut, which stood half a mile from any road, but so much the nearer to the pond, and had long been uninhabited:-- "And
43here a poet builded, In the completed years, For behold a trivial cabin That to destruction steers."
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