Walden Pond

The Transcendentalists loved nature.  And I love Nature. We have a lot in common, those Transcendentalists and I. Serendipitously.

Mistah and I had the great good fortune to go to Concord this weekend and to commune with the spirit of his man Henry David Thoreau along with his brethren and sisteren . . . and we started where every visit to Concord starts -- Walden Pond.

Walden Pond is a glorious place that is solidly both in the past and in the present -- you can swim! You can kayak! You can canoe! -- well, you can do whatever you want without a motor -- but you never stop thinking about what it must have been like for good ol' Henry David, stomping around and observing everything, 175 years ago . . .

And it is just so utterly spectacular,  especially on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon in October.

Walden Pond is chill. It's important and lovely and magical and wonderful, but you get to do what you want and think about what you want and transcend over everything: 

It's good to be a transcendentalist . . .

. . . just ask Mistah.

When we finally left Walden Pond we spent the weekend walking and walking under the towering old growth trees ablaze with foliage . . .

. . . maybe you people are right about this Fall thing . . .

There is lots to learn and lots of sights to see, but we kept returning to the trees . . .

. . . and the waterways . . .

. . . and in Concord, all roads lead to the Old North Bridge, where the Shot Heard Round the World was fired . . .

It's a beautiful and charming and moving and magical place . . .

It's Transcendent.