No More Learning

A queen might be proud to walk where these gallant
trees have spread their bright cloaks in the mud. I see wagons roll
over them as a shadow or a reflection, and the drivers heed them just
as little as they did their shadows before.

Birds' nests, in the huckleberry and other shrubs, and in trees, are
already being filled with the withered leaves. So many have fallen in
the woods that a squirrel cannot run after a falling nut without being
heard. Boys are raking them in the streets, if only for the pleasure
of dealing with such clean, crisp substances. Some sweep the paths
scrupulously neat, and then stand to see the next breath strew them
with new trophies. The swamp floor is thickly covered, and the
_Lycopodium lucidulum_ looks suddenly greener amid them. In dense
woods they half cover pools that are three or four rods long. The
other day I could hardly find a well-known spring, and even suspected
that it had dried up, for it was completely concealed by freshly
fallen leaves; and when I swept them aside and revealed it, it was
like striking the earth, with Aaron's rod, for a new spring. Wet
grounds about the edges of swamps look dry with them. At one swamp,
where I was surveying, thinking to step on a leafy shore from a rail,
I got into the water more than a foot deep.

When I go to the river the day after the principal fall of leaves, the
sixteenth, I find my boat all covered, bottom and seats, with the
leaves of the golden willow under which it is moored, and I set sail
with a cargo of them rustling under my feet. If I empty it, it will be
full again to-morrow. I do not regard them as litter, to be swept out,
but accept them as suitable straw or matting for the bottom of my
carriage. When I turn up into the mouth of the Assabet, which is
wooded, large fleets of leaves are floating on its surface, as it
were getting out to sea, with room to tack; but next the shore, a
little farther up, they are thicker than foam, quite concealing the
water for a rod in width, under and amid the alders, button-bushes,
and maples, still perfectly light and dry, with fibre unrelaxed; and
at a rocky bend where they are met and stopped by the morning wind,
they sometimes form a broad and dense crescent quite across the river.
When I turn my prow that way, and the wave which it makes strikes
them, list what a pleasant rustling from these dry substances getting
on one another! Often it is their undulation only which reveals the
water beneath them. Also every motion of the wood turtle on the shore
is betrayed by their rustling there. Or even in mid-channel, when the
wind rises, I hear them blown with a rustling sound. Higher up they
are slowly moving round and round in some great eddy which the river
makes, as that at the "Leaning Hemlocks," where the water is deep, and
the current is wearing into the bank.

Perchance, in the afternoon of such a day, when the water is perfectly
calm and full of reflections, I paddle gently down the main stream,
and, turning up the Assabet, reach a quiet cove, where I unexpectedly
find myself surrounded by myriads of leaves, like fellow-voyagers,
which seem to have the same purpose, or want of purpose, with myself.
See this great fleet of scattered leaf-boats which we paddle amid, in
this smooth river-bay, each one curled up on every side by the sun's
skill, each nerve a stiff spruce knee,--like boats of hide, and of all
patterns,--Charon's boat probably among the rest,--and some with
lofty prows and poops, like the stately vessels of the ancients,
scarcely moving in the sluggish current,--like the great fleets, the
dense Chinese cities of boats, with which you mingle on entering some
great mart, some New York or Canton, which we are all steadily
approaching together. How gently each has been deposited on the water!
No violence has been used towards them yet, though, perchance,
palpitating hearts were present at the launching. And painted ducks,
too, the splendid wood duck among the rest, often come to sail and
float amid the painted leaves,--barks of a nobler model still!

What wholesome herb drinks are to be had in the swamps now! What
strong medicinal but rich scents from the decaying leaves! The rain
falling on the freshly dried herbs and leaves, and filling the pools
and ditches into which they have dropped thus clean and rigid, will
soon convert them into tea,--green, black, brown, and yellow teas, of
all degrees of strength, enough to set all Nature a-gossiping. Whether
we drink them or not, as yet, before their strength is drawn, these
leaves, dried on great Nature's coppers, are of such various pure and
delicate tints as might make the fame of Oriental teas.

How they are mixed up, of all species, oak and maple and chestnut and
birch! But Nature is not cluttered with them; she is a perfect
husbandman; she stores them all.