For Love of Lakes

Lakescapes of the Mind

· · 228 · · Lakescapes of the Mind Thereareinnumerableavenuestoaperceptionoftruth....Itis notinvainthatthemindturnsasidethiswayorthat:followits leading;applyitwhitheritinclines.Probetheuniverseina myriadpoints. HENRY DAVID THOREAU Though infinitely more famous than the rest of Massachusetts’ lakes, Walden Pond was not the only lake in Henry Thoreau’s life. Four others, sprinkled about the landscape of Concord and Lincoln, made up the rest of what Thoreau called his “lake district.” One of those lakes, Flint’s Pond, Sandy Pond to some, stands apart from the rest. Thoreau was familiar with Flint’s Pond long before he lived his experiment at Walden. His roommate at Harvard, Charles Wheeler, lived a short distance away from the pond and had built a cabin on its shore as a summer retreat, perhaps with Thoreau’s help. Henry apparently spent six weeks there with Charles the summer after finishing college. Some think that experience sparked the idea to build his famous shanty on Walden years later. • • • Flint’s Pond, the only nutrient-rich lake Henry writes of, is also the only lake he denigrates. Thoreau obviously preferred clear-water lakes. He notes that Flint’s pond lies at higher elevation than Walden, and a small chain of ponds between them hints the former may once have drained into the latter. · · 229 · · Thoreau invokes God’s forbiddance that such flowage should ever return to mingle the impure water of Flint’s with the pristine water of Walden. Thoreau had strong opinions about Farmer Flint, whose land bordered the lake and who had given the pond its name. Thoreau was incensed with the man: “What right had the unclean and stupid farmer, whose farm abutted [the lake] . . . whose shores he ruthlessly laid bare to give his name to it . . . a skin flint who loved better . . . a dollar . . . who regarded even the wild ducks which settled in [the lake] trespassers. . . . Fingers grown into crooked and horny talons from the long habit of grasping harpy-like. . . who would carry the landscape, who would carry his God, to market if he could get anything for him.” I can only wonder what drove Thoreau to write with such venom. Flint’s farming has desecrated the lake’s shore in Henry’s eyes, but his wrath is inconsistent . He acknowledges that woodcutters, the railroad, and he himself have profaned Walden, yet the pond remains unchanged. Henry condemns Flint but absolves himself and others for their own lake transgressions. • • • More than 150 years have passed since Thoreau wrote of Flint’s pond. Do houses and docks and lush green lawns now crowd the water’s edge? Do cattle muddy its shores? Is the pond covered with scum? Choked with pondweeds? Is there even public access to its waters? Now that we are here in Thoreau country, I can’t wait to find out. We inquire at the Old Lincoln Town Hall for directions. After several wrong turns on narrow New England roads we approach a lake. No sign tells its name. A short driveway leads to a tiny parking lot at its edge. The water body is the size and shape of Flint’s Pond on our map. A small pump house sits partly in the water. A blocky gray building borders the parking lot. The lot is empty. I dash to the front of the car and begin untying canoe ropes. Then I see it—a white rectangular sign, stout and sober, at the edge of the tar, the blue lake behind it. “Absolutely No Swimming, No Fishing, No Boating. By order of the Lincoln Water Commission.” I turn to Geri. “So what do we do now?” lakescapes of the mind futurescapes· · 230 · · I want desperately to get onto that lake. I don’t need much time there. I want only to learn its condition, take notes on aquatic plant life and the shore, and measure the water clarity. “But it doesn’t say anything about canoes,” I say. “I know of lakes where motorboats aren’t allowed but canoes are.” Geri says nothing. “If they really don’t want anybody on that lake for anything, they could just say NO TRESPASSING. That would take care of it. But they didn’t. I bet a canoe is OK.” Geri looks at me soberly and shakes her head. We look at the lake, the canoe, and again at the sign. “Maybe if we explained that we need less than an hour to do our research they’d give us permission,”Gerifinallysays.“ThewomanattheTownHalltoldustherewas a Water Department building just down the road. Let’s...