This book struck several different emotions for me while i was reading it. First, i couldn't wait to get into this book as i had heard excellent comments about him as an author. Well, as i started to read Walden, i couldn't stand it. Ahh! was i disapoointed, what did all the other folks see in his writing i thought to myself. I had to force myself to read a bit of it each day and push my way through it. I thought that he had a lot to say about nothing and that he regarded himself rather highly. As you might predict, as i kept reading i started to notice a change, or perhaps it was me. I was able to start getting the "gist" sorta, of what he was trying to portray. Seemed to me that he got off himself a bit and i started to enjoy it, i even found humor in some of the pages and some of his expressions.
I grew up as a kid with a beautiful grassy pasture behind our house, and my Dad put in a small pond beneath the massive dense Black Willow trees for the 4-5 cows that roamed the field. Eventually Dad built us a tree house that my brothers and i spent hours and hours in right next to the pond.
At the north end of the pasture were two bathtubs one draining into the other that Dad used as watering troughs. Dad used to do all the duties of maintaining the needs of the field and the cows. Now, that Dad has passed on, it has come to me to carry on these duties. Well, I'm a rookie at these sorts of things. Over the winter the tubs evaporate out leaving all the decomposed leaves and muck at the bottom. (I didn't know that you were supposed to drain them and then flip them over so they don't crack in the winter). As i was cleaning the tubs and refilling them the water drained out of the first tub. It was then that i noticed the plug, an old wooden plug that my dad had carved out of a hunk of wood some 15 years before. I pulled the plug out and held it up, sure enough, there was a hole right in the middle of it. As i held up this plug, so many reflections of Dad, the field, the tree house by the pond came pouring back to me. It was then that a wave of appreciation of Thoreau's reflections around his pond settled in my mind, sorta like putting a new plug in the tub so water could once more reflect the beauty of the trees and life around it.
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I hated reading Thoreau. I whined and complained and whined some more to the point that others were actually laughing at me; not because what I was saying was humorous, but that I must have presented an interested and comical specter. Yes, I even found him humorous and most of the quotes from Walden that I used were those hilarious quips. I didn't know how to take him at first, but as I read, I began to see a picture. The assignments that I've done for this trip required a lot of energy and concentration on my part, or focus, to be able to respond. I knew the assignments were for me and that I was not just writing to please someone else. I read and wrote so that i could refer back to my musings for future lessons. I don't necessarily agree with much of his rhetoric (I felt that he was writing/talking just to hear himself talk. Perhaps when one lives alone, that's what one does to keep from going crazy). As I've plodded along, as an educator, I began to see the "path" that our leaders had outlined for us to "walk". I didn't know then that i would experience all the deep emotions and insights, for me, that I have. Reading the blog posts has been very helpful as well. I did not grow up on a farm, but near them in a small town in southern Utah. I liked your connection. Rather than visit pasture pools of water, my memories of "ponds" came from outings to the "fishing hole" came back as he spoke of the species of fish he caught. I haven't inserted a new plug in the tub, but perhaps opened a hole in my "head" and "heart" to embrace the teachings. I really liked your blog and the personal touch. Thank you.
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