The peaceful east

That title is hereby meant ironically. But when I typed it, I didn't mean it that way.

I'm in Massachusetts again. Last night after eating dinner I took a drive in the drizzly twilight and purely by accident found Walden Pond. I parked at a boat ramp and got out and stood by the shore. The sky was a perfect pearl grey and the trees a monochromatic grey-green. There were several swimmers in the water making their way across the water. Some German tourists drove up and, less reverent than I, marched up to the water's edge and poked their fingers in the water.

Altogether, a very peaceful scene, minus the Germans. I got back in the car and proceeded to get very lost, but I didn't mind because I had nowhere to go except back to my hotel.

Of course, the idea that this area is "peaceful" is ridiculous. Just off the top of my head, we think of the completely eliminated aboriginal population, the starving immigrants from Europe, the heads busted in countless union battles, right down to the famous "Civil Action" case in nearby Woburn. And, as I'm sure everyone notes, the noise pollution from the busy road near Walden Pond. There ain't no more pure places, and perhaps the east coast of the U.S. is the worst places to look for them.

Nevertheless, to someone from California, the treesy landscape, the departure of industry, and the quiet woods speak peace.