methinks I should hear with indifference if a trustworthy messenger were to inform me that the sun drowned himself last night
Thoreau's Journal: 23-Sep-1851
The telegraph harp sounds strongly to-day, in the midst of the rain. I put my ears to the trees and I hear it working terribly within, and anon it swells into a clear tone, which seems to concentrate in the core of the tree, for all the sound seems to proceed from the wood. It is as if you had entered some world-famous cathedral, resounding to some vast organ. The fibres of all things have their tension, and are strained like the strings of a lyre. I feel the very ground tremble under my feet as I stand near the post. The wire vibrates with great power, as if it would strain and rend the wood. What an awful an fateful music it must be to the worms in the wood! No better vermifuge were needed. No danger that worms will attack this wood; such vibrating music would thrill them to death. I scare up large flocks of sparrows in the garden.
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
Ah, the Victorian Internet.
Henry was much more fascinated with technology than those who try to claim him as Pure Nature Boy will ever allow.
Henry was many things, among them a social critic at the forefront.
But there are those who prefer to think of him as just a naturalist, because they can handle his long descriptions of plants and animals, but not his sharp and prophetic comments on society.
Modern society needs Henry, but how many truly deserve him?
Post a Comment