Nighthawk (Walden 112)

Wikimedia Commons

Wikimedia Commons

The nighthawk circled
overhead in the sunny afternoons…
like a mote in the eye,
or in heaven’s eye, falling
from time to time with a
swoop and a sound
as if the heavens were rent,
torn at last to very rags and tatters,
and yet a seamless cope remained;

small imps that fill the air and
lay their eggs on the ground
on bare sand or rocks on the tops of hills,
where few have found them;

graceful and slender like
ripples caught up from the pond,
as leaves are raised by the wind to float
in the heavens;
Such kindredship is in nature.

The hawk is aerial brother of the wave
which he sails over and surveys,
those his perfect air-inflated wings
answering to the elemental unfledged
pinions of the sea.

—Henry David Thoreau, “The Bean-Field,” Walden

(About  “A Year in Walden”)


2 thoughts on “Nighthawk (Walden 112)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s