Solitude

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　　This is a delicious evening， when the whole body is one sense，and imbibes delight through every pore. I go and come with a strange liberty in Nature， a part of herself. As I walk along the stony shore of the pond in my shirt-sleeves， though it is cool as well as cloudy and windy， and I see nothing special to attract me，all the elements are unusually congenial to me. The bullfrogs trump to usher in the night， and the note of the whip-poor-will is borne on the rippling wind from over the water. Sympathy with the fluttering alder and poplar leaves almost takes away my breath； yet，like the lake， my serenity is rippled but not ruffled. These small waves raised by the evening wind are as remote from storm as the smooth reflecting surface. Though it is now dark， the wind still blows and roars in the wood， the waves still dash， and some creatures lull the rest with their notes. The repose is never complete. The wildest animals do not repose， but seek their prey now； the fox， and skunk， and rabbit， now roam the fields and woods without fear. They are Nature's watchmen ―― links which connect the days of animated life.

　　When I return to my house I find that visitors have been there and left their cards， either a bunch of flowers， or a wreath of evergreen， or a name in pencil on a yellow walnut leaf or a chip. They who come rarely to the woods take some little piece of the forest into their hands to play with by the way， which they leave，either intentionally or accidentally. One has peeled a willow wand，woven it into a ring， and dropped it on my table. I could always tell if visitors had called in my absence， either by the bended twigs or grass， or the print of their shoes， and generally of what sex or age or quality they were by some slight trace left， as a flower dropped， or a bunch of grass plucked and thrown away， even as far off as the railroad， half a mile distant， or by the lingering odor of a cigar or pipe. Nay， I was frequently notified of the passage of a traveller along the highway sixty rods off by the scent of his pipe.

　　There is commonly sufficient space about us. Our horizon is never quite at our elbows. The thick wood is not just at our door，nor the pond， but somewhat is always clearing， familiar and worn by us， appropriated and fenced in some way， and reclaimed from Nature. For what reason have I this vast range and circuit， some square miles of unfrequented forest， for my privacy， abandoned to me by men？ My nearest neighbor is a mile distant， and no house is visible from any place but the hill-tops within half a mile of my own. I have my horizon bounded by woods all to myself； a distant view of the railroad where it touches the pond on the one hand， and of the fence which skirts the woodland road on the other. But for the most part it is as solitary where I live as on the prairies. It is as much Asia or Africa as New England. I have， as it were， my own sun and moon and stars， and a little world all to myself. At night there was never a traveller passed my house， or knocked at my door，more than if I were the first or last man； unless it were in the spring， when at long intervals some came from the village to fish for pouts ―― they plainly fished much more in the Walden Pond of their own natures， and baited their hooks with darkness ―― but they soon retreated， usually with light baskets， and left "the world to darkness and to me，" and the black kernel of the night was never profaned by any human neighborhood. I believe that men are generally still a little afraid of the dark， though the witches are all hung， and Christianity and candles have been introduced.

　　這是一個愉快的傍晚，全身只有一個感覺，每一個毛孔中都浸潤著喜悅。我在大自然里以奇異的自由姿態來去，成了她自己的一部分。我只穿襯衫，沿著硬石的湖岸走，天氣雖然寒冷，多云又多鳳，也沒有特別分心的事，那時天氣對我異常地合適。牛蛙鳴叫，邀來黑夜，夜鷹的樂音乘著吹起漣漪的風從湖上傳來。搖曳的赤楊和白楊，激起我的情感使我幾乎不能呼吸了；然而像湖水一樣，我的寧靜只有漣漪而沒有激蕩。和如鏡的湖面一樣，晚風吹起來的微波是談不上什么風暴的。雖然天色黑了，風還在森林中吹著，咆哮著，波浪還在拍岸，某一些動物還在用它們的樂音催眠著另外的那些，寧靜不可能是絕對的。最兇狠的野獸并沒有寧靜，現在正找尋它們的犧牲品；狐貍，臭鼬，兔子，也正漫游在原野上，在森林中，它們卻沒有恐懼，它們是大自然的看守者，――是連接一個個生氣勃勃的白晝的鏈環。等我口到家里，發現已有訪客來過，他們還留下了名片呢，不是一束花，便是一個常春樹的花環，或用鉛筆寫在黃色的胡桃葉或者木片上的一個名字。不常進入森林的人常把森林中的小玩意兒一路上拿在手里玩，有時故意，有時偶然，把它們留下了。有一位剝下了柳樹皮，做成一個戒指，丟在我桌上。在我出門時有沒有客人來過，我總能知道，不是樹枝或青草彎倒，便是有了鞋印，一般說，從他們留下的微小痕跡里我還可以猜出他們的年齡、性別和性格；有的掉下了花朵，有的抓來一把草，又扔掉，甚至還有一直帶到半英里外的鐵路邊才扔下的呢；有時，雪茄煙或煙斗味道還殘留不散。常常我還能從煙斗的香味注意到六十桿之外公路上行經的一個旅行者。

　　我們周圍的空間該說是很大的了。我們不能一探手就觸及地平線。蓊郁的森林或湖沼并不就在我的門口，中間總還有著一塊我們熟悉而且由我們使用的空地，多少整理過了，還圍了點籬笆，它仿佛是從大自然的手里被奪取得來的。為了什么理由，我要有這么大的范圍和規模，好多平方英里的沒有人跡的森林，遭人類遺棄而為我所私有了呢？

　　最接近我的鄰居在一英里外，看不到什么房子，除非登上那半里之外的小山山頂去

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Solitude