Читать книгу Maine Metaphor: The Green and Blue House - S. Dorman - Страница 4

For Ronald Allen, who wanted to come from away.

“I took a walk on Spaulding’s Farm the other afternoon. I saw the setting sun lighting up the opposite side of a stately pine wood. Its golden rays straggled into the aisles of the wood as into some noble hall. I was impressed as if some ancient and altogether admirable and shining family had settled there in that part of the land . . . I saw their park, their pleasure-ground, beyond through the wood, in Spaulding’s cranberry-meadow. The pines furnished them with gables as they grew. Their house was not obvious to vision; trees grew through it . . . The farmer’s cart-path, which leads directly through their hall, does not in the least put them out . . . They never heard of Spaulding, and do not know that he is their neighbor,—notwithstanding I heard him whistle as he drove his team through the house.”

—Henry David Thoreau, “Walking”