49 ° F / 10 ° C / Rain 24 October 1837 Every part of nature teaches that the passing away of one life is the making room for another. The oak dies down to the ground, leaving within its rind a rich virgin mould, which will impart a vigorous life to an infant forest. The pine leaves a sandy and sterile soil, the harder woods a strong and fruitful mould. So this constant abrasion and decay makes the soil of my future growth. As I live now so shall I reap. If I grow pines and

“Being alive is insisting that you are a soul first.” [Alok]  51° F (10.5° C)  / 28 mph (45 kmph) wind The wind and rain are making their best efforts to keep me indoors with my thoughts. That actually works out perfectly, because yesterday (Walden, Day 1) was sunny, and we walked for over an hour through the parks and canals to the south of our house. Today’s mind is being fed by yesterday’s perambulation.  Cobwebs have taken over much of my brain since we made the decision

Thoreau's First Journal Entry, 22 October 1837 “Everything is true through which we become better.” From a distance, Thoreau lived a simple life, he made pencils for his father’s factory, he read, he wrote, he enjoyed the outdoors, he helped his friends. He never lived far from his hometown of Concord, Massachusetts, but he didn’t let that stifle his curiosity about other places and experiences. When he became impatient that his writing hadn’t progressed, his friend gave him