Walden

Every day or two I strolled to the village to hear some of the gossip which is incessantly going on there, circulating either from mouth to mouth, or from newspaper to newspaper, and which, taken in homœopathic doses, was really as refreshing in its way as the rustle of leaves and the peeping of frogs

Thoreau is comparing the gossip with lesser sounds in nature. However sweet the peeping frogs may sound to T, they cannot be compared with the songs of the birds or crows of his wild cockerels which seem to be filling the world: ““To walk in a winter morning in a wood where these birds abounded, their native woods, and hear the wild cockerels crow on the trees, clear and shrill for miles over the resounding earth, drowning the feebler notes of other birds—think of it!”   

[When first I took up my abode in the woods, that is, began to spend my nights as well as days there, which, by accident, was on Independence Day, or the fourth of July, 1845, my house was not finished for the winter, but was merely a defence against the rain, without plastering or chimney, the walls being of rough, weather-stained boards, with wide chinks, which made it cool at night.]

Find Thoreau’s cabin on the map here

[ by a chain of small ponds coming from that quarter, and on the other directly and manifestly to Concord River, which is lower, by a similar chain of ponds through which in some other geological period it may have flowed, and by a little digging, which God forbid, it can be made to flow thither again]

Find Concord River on the map here

[We have one other pond just like this, White Pond, in Nine Acre Corner, about two and a half miles westerly; but, though I am acquainted with most of the ponds within a dozen miles of this centre, I do not know a third of this pure and well-like character. Successive nations perchance have drank at, admired, and fathomed it, and passed away, and still its water is green and pellucid as ever. ]

Find White Pond on the map here

[or, while the sun was setting, made my supper of huckleberries and blueberries on Fair Haven Hill, and laid up a store for several days. The fruits do not yield their true flavor to the purchaser of them, nor to him who raises them for the market. There is but one way to obtain it, yet few take that way]

Find Fair Haven Hill on the map here

[I was seated by the shore of a small pond, about a mile and a half south of the village of Concord and somewhat higher than it, in the midst of an extensive wood between that town and Lincoln, and about two miles south of that our only field known to fame, Concord Battle Ground; but I was so low in the woods that the opposite shore, half a mile off, like the rest, shore, half a mile off, like the rest covered with wood, was my most distant horizon.]

View Concord Battle Ground on a map here.

[For human society I was obliged to conjure up the former occupants of these woods. Within the memory of many of my townsmen the road near which my house stands resounded with the laugh and gossip of inhabitants]

https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/edit?mid=1M0Ai9sR3tbtT36zPxj7ga94UkAWoSeA4&ll=42.4387,-71.34012&z=14

Link to Walden Woods on Google Maps

[So I made haste for shelter to the nearest hut, which stood half a mile from any road, but so much the nearer to the pond, and had long been uninhabited]

The Field Home on Baker Farm on the map:

https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/edit?mid=1M0Ai9sR3tbtT36zPxj7ga94UkAWoSeA4&ll=42.43052,-71.33695&z=14

[The Bean-Field]

The Bean-Field on the map:

https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/edit?mid=1M0Ai9sR3tbtT36zPxj7ga94UkAWoSeA4&ll=42.44216,-71.34196&z=14

[Brister’s Hill]

Brister’s Hill on the map:

https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/edit?mid=1M0Ai9sR3tbtT36zPxj7ga94UkAWoSeA4&ll=42.44223,-71.33919&z=14