I have a room all to myself; it is nature.

Photo: A woman swims in Walden Pond in Concord, Mass., on what would have been the 200th birthday of Henry David Thoreau, author of the book ‘Walden.’ He was born on July 12, 1817. (Brian Snyder, Reuters, wsj.com July 12, 2017)

Post Title: Henry David Thoreau



  1. And how cool is that!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. beautiful and so peaceful. i have one of his quotes in my post tomorrow. amazing man.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Love his work. We all have this beautiful room to visit anytime 🍃🍀☀️

    Liked by 1 person

  4. And each of us can share in that room without disturbing others ..

    Liked by 2 people

  5. I love the “I have a room all to myself–it is nature!” How true…wherever we can quietly experience nature. segue> See the documentary “The Big House” about Martha’s Vineyard. People think the title is about the huge mega hotel sized house being built, but a guy who sleeps out in the fields or wherever he decides to pitch his small tent, says at one point…look, here is the big house…while looking out in all directions. [He, by the way, said he came from a middle-class background, went to private schools and then to Harvard.] !


  6. ❤ we all need that room

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I just came across this poem (I’m not very well read), and thought you might like it (if you haven’t found it already because you’re better read than I):

    The Lake Isle of Innisfree

    I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
    And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
    Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
    And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

    And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
    Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
    There midnight’s all a-glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
    And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

    I will arise and go now, for always night and day
    I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
    While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
    I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

    W.B. Yeats

    Liked by 1 person

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