Another blogging of a literary text: "This Day, from Henry David Thoreau's Journal". A sample from a wintery day like today, just before the Civil War:
December 17, 1856
That feeble cheep of the tree sparrow, like the tinkling of an icicle, or the chafing of two hard shrub oak twigs, is probably a call to their mates, by which they keep together. These birds, when perched, look larger than usual this cold and windy day; they are puffed up for warmth, have added a porch to their doors.
That feeble cheep of the tree sparrow, like the tinkling of an icicle, or the chafing of two hard shrub oak twigs, is probably a call to their mates, by which they keep together. These birds, when perched, look larger than usual this cold and windy day; they are puffed up for warmth, have added a porch to their doors.
(via BoingBoing)
Interesting that each day comes from a different year -- if I subscribe to this in my RSS feed, wouldn't it make more sense for the items to all come from the same year, so that I can see Thoreau's particular train of thought? Or is this making a point that living by Walden makes the seasons the determinant of his thoughts rather than history or man?
Also interesting, there's no place at all to comment on this blog. No interactivity of any kind -- I couldn't even find who was responsible for the blog without following the BoingBoing link. A comment on Thoreau's solitude? Or just a missed opportunity for engagement?
Posted by: Nick Doty | December 17, 2008 at 18:45