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Lake Walden in the snow, bland and peaceful

Source: Time: 2020-01-09 05:52:32

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Hello everyone, today is the 9th day of our "Walden Lake" reading, please remember to check in. The walker is half ninety, please do not hesitate.
Yesterday we read that Winter came to Lake Walden. Today, the three chapters we read are about the winter of Lake Walden: the original residents and visitors in winter, the animals in winter, and the lake in winter.
It was a few snows in winter at Lake Walden. In the midst of boredom at night, Thoreau remembered the residents who had previously lived in this forest. Living near the bean fields that the writers now grow are two black men. One is the slave of the squire in the town, living in the forest with the permission of the owner, which is equivalent to old age. He first planted a walnut grove and sold it to a white speculator. The other is a black woman who lives on textile linen. She often sings in the forest. Later in the second war between the United States and Britain, the black woman's house was burned down by British prisoners of war, and she has lived very hard ever since.
The door panels, lintels and thresholds have long disappeared, and lilac is still growing vigorously. Every year, fragrant flowers bloom, and any thoughtful passerby picks them up. These flowers, planted and cared for by the original children in the front yard, now stand in the deserted abandoned garden, gradually giving way to the woods of the new country; they are the last orphans and the only survivors of the family.
Those dark children never thought that only two bud-eye branches were inserted into the ground in the shadow of the house, and after daily watering, they could land and take root. They lived better than them and the shelters behind them. It will last longer, longer than the courtyard and orchard of adults. After they have grown up and died for half a century, they can tell their story to the lonely stroller, and the flowers are still so brilliant and the smell is still so fragrant. Like the first spring. I admire these lilacs that are still gentle, elegant, joyful and bright.
The snow is getting thicker. However, no matter how bad the weather is, Thoreau will still trek eight to ten miles in the snow, just to go to an appointment to see a beech or a yellow birch, or a few old acquaintances in the pine forest. Sometimes, when the writer goes home at night, he will see someone in his cabin. It was the lumberjack who used his hut for heating. The lumberjack will help the owner of the house trim the heating wood chips in return. Sometimes Solo's friends came to visit him.
In winter, Lake Walden is not all dead. The owl howls all night, and the ice in the lake coughs. In the bright night, there will be foxes searching for prey in the snow. Every morning, the red squirrels wake up the writers. They visit for the immature ears of corn thrown away by Thoreau. For the corn, there are crested blue crows and tits. There will also be hunters in the forest, who are hunting foxes with hunting dogs. A white-boot rabbit was nested under Thoreau's cabin. Every morning, the sound of rabbits leaving in a hurry will scare our writers.
In winter, Lake Walden freezes.
Lake Walden closed his eyes safely and hibernated for three months or more. I stood on this white snowfield, as if I was in a grassland among mountains. First, I shoveled a foot of snow, then cut a foot of ice, opened a window at my feet, and knelt down to drink water. I looked down at the quiet living room of the fish from this window, but when I saw the light inside was soft, it seemed to be shining in through frosted glass, and the bottom of the sandy lake was still like summer; there was always an amber evening sky, always It gives people a sense of tranquility and solemnity, which complements the cold and serene temperament of the residents in the lake. It turned out that besides our heads, there was a sky under our feet.
Unlike the individual fishermen on ice, there are hundreds of ice miners. These people can pick up a thousand tons of ice every day. These ice cubes were piled up in an open field. Because these ice cubes contain more air, they are not easily stored. So most of the ice was piled there and slowly melted, returning to Lake Walden.
Now they are all gone, maybe another 30 days, I look out of this window again, and I should see that the lake Walden is again rippling, reflecting the clouds and trees, and emitting the transpiration water vapor alone, no There will be any signs that someone has stood on the lake. Maybe I can hear the laughter of the lonely diving bird as he dives and fixes his feathers, or see the lonely fisherman floating in a floating leaf-shaped boat, staring at his reflection in the water, for a long time. Before, hundreds of people worked there safely.
Spring is here, and we will end the reading trip of Walden. Okay, that's all for this issue. We will see you tomorrow.
Time is rushing, April will soon pass, and the three books we read in April will soon be over. During this time, our co-reading activity received the participation and support of thousands of readers, and expressed the hope to continue reading. Therefore, we are here to extend the co-reading activity for another month. Here, we also hope that the readers will actively participate in the selection of two books from the list below for our reading in May.

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