Thoreau can tell us of ever-recurring dawns. Does that bear on our passage into a new year? I greeted the new year half asleep over the Atlantic, and passed through midnight several times on the way. There was always another midnight until I landed in Tel Aviv. And along the route I calculated the trip as 2/3 above Ocean waters, 1/3 over Mediterranean ones. The known watered world in Greek and Biblical times was pretty damn big. But back to Thoreau. Can he help us welcome in a new year? Here’s a thought.
Let’s say that Thoreau is good for the soul, and for preserving bushels of insight we have hardly begun to taste. In place of instrumental knowledge and reason we have Thoreau’s exuberant knowledge that conveys the not-yet fully lost enchantments of sounds and rhythms of sentences and texts, finding a vibrancy echoing on into the morning free from the moorings of theory, ready for redemptive revelations of lilies rising up through the muck.