It could be any pond - Minnesota has thousands. It's not any pond, though - it's Walden Pond. I felt the reverence for nature, Thoreau, Emerson, during my brief encounter. I will go back - a draw to the wild, respect for nature blaring. I love it.
Concord is not rural. The Walden Pond State park is a quiet wilderness, aside suburban Boston population, accessible for the price of limited, controlled, parking.
I was dismayed to see the parking areas were only open from 7:30am to 7:30pm - missing both sunrise and sunset. We left the parking area at 7:15pm - plenty early to counter my fear of being locked in for the night. I drove around desperately looking for a spot to park in the morning. How could I be so close to Walden Pond and not be in place to capture magic at sunrise?
Serendipitously (maybe not), we encountered a park ranger who graciously heard and responded to my plea for access at the sun's coming and going. He said "I'll watch for you at the gate... it's ok until 8:pm, and even if it is five after eight, I won't lock you in." This was thoughtful but still a bit early for sunset. How about sunrise at 5Am? The smily, thoughtful ranger directed us to the fishing access parking that opens at 5am.
I am there at 5am, thinking I would be alone - I usually am, along Lake Champlain or one of it's tributaries at sunrise. I think I got the last parking spot of the 15 or so spots. Fishers, swimmers and even a saunterer were there, quietly communing with nature. Wonderful.
The well outfitted fisher in this image said Walden Pond is his second home this time of the year. With a proud smile, he spoke of fishing the pond 65 years ago with his father. I have another image of him lifting high, for me to photograph, a 3 1/2 pound trout he expertly hooked, wading to his thighs to net.
Carol is sauntering with sandals this dawn, making her way around the 1 1/2 mile pond sand shore, napping a stray can and one cigarette butt, doing her part maintaining pristine. Carol spoke of living close by, the last 35 years, and enjoying yoga often, near the Thoreau site, over looking the pond. Today she reflects from a perfect perch, the sun reflected at her calf.