And then a spectacular greenway:
Which included these adorable steam-spewing robot-like sculptures:
Here's my friend Megan, who, as a professional historian specializing in landscapes, makes the best sort of tour guide a visitor can have, since she's chock full of not only the trivia, but some interesting thoughts on the meaning of it all. Sadly, I got her with her eyes closed:
This was followed by a delicious meal involving a beet salad. It was the first time I've ever had such a thing, and I must say I was rather shocked at the result the next morning. In fact, I was convinced I was dying, having never seen anything quite like that before, and demanded a trip to the local emergency room. Before Megan and I went, however, we decided to stop off and take a tour through the Walden Pond. Here's me, before death, posing with Himself:
And another of me in front of the site of the original house:
Walden was charming, with all kinds of kayakers, and swimmers, and hikers, and fly-fisherpeople. I like the fact that it isn't an untouchable shrine, though I will admit it probably takes away from the ability to "feel" the ghostly presence of Henry David. On balance, I think I'd rather have the boaters and bathers than a ghost, though, and I suspect Thoreau would as well.
Oh, and the ER doctor diagnosed me with "beets" and thus I lived.