The Ponds
rquot; along its stony shores all summer. I have
sometimes disturbed a fisting on a he
er; but I doubt if it is ever profaned by the wind of a gull,
like Fair most, it tolerates one annual loon. these are
all t it now.
You may see from a boat, in calm he sandy
eastern ser is eigen feet deep, and also
in some ots of the pond, some circular heaps half a dozen
feet in diameter by a foot in , consisting of small stones
less t
first you he ice
for any purpose, and so, o the
bottom; but too regular and some of too fresh
for t. to t as there
are no suckers nor lampreys by w fishey could
be made. Pers of these lend a
pleasing mystery to ttom.
t to be monotonous. I have in
my minds eye tern, indented he bolder
nortifully scalloped southern shore, where
successive capes overlap eac unexplored coves
bet ting, nor is so
distinctly beautiful, as whe middle of a small lake
amid ers edge; for ter in which
it is reflected not only makes t foreground in such a case,
but, s ural and agreeable boundary
to it. tion in its edge there, as
ivated field abuts on it.
trees o expand on ter side, and each
sends forts most vigorous branc direction. there
Nature ural selvage, and t
gradations from to t trees.
traces of mans o be seen. ter laves the
s did a thousand ye