Thoreau's Journal: 29-Mar-1855

As I stand on Heywood’s Peak, looking over Walden, more than half its surface already sparkling blue water, I inhale with pleasure the cold but wholesome air like a draught of cold water, contrasting it in my memory with the wind of summer, which I do not thus eagerly swallow. This, which is a chilling wind to my fellow, is decidedly refreshing to me, and I swallow it with eagerness as a panacea. I feel an impulse, also, already, to jump into the half-melted pond. This cold wind is refreshing to my palate, as the warm air of summer is not, methinks. I love to stand there and be blown on as much as a horse in July.


Suzanne said...

Dear Thoreau,
I am falling madly in love with you. I start every morning w/you and a cup of decaf.

Thanks, for this blog, Greg--I'm really enjoying it. :-)

son rivers said...

Suzanne, Henry is blushing but I'm sure he'd suggest something more natural like tea. ;-)

And you're welcome. I am too.