It was a familiar fall day. The leaves had turned a burnt yellow and red. The sun was out–I almost didn’t need my thin jacket at all. We made sure to take the scenic route to Concord so that we could take it all in.

Our first stop was Walden Pond, made famous by Henry David Thoreau. Upon arrival, I was reminded of a familiar sight: the water was like glass and made bright blue by the clear sky. You could see all the way down to the rocks and sand. I felt like I was back home at Acadia.

I was surprised to see a beach at first, and people swimming in the water. The chatting and laughter of all the park’s residents startled me. I was expecting Walden Pond to be voiceless, only the sound of the birds and chipmunks. 

Nevertheless, it was stunning. 

We walked around the pond, making sure to stop by the place where Thoreau’s cabin one sat. All that remains now are a few stones. Standing in its place, I tried to envision what it might have been like if the walls surrounded me. 

Our next stop was Louisa May Alcott’s Orchard House. Having read Little Women when I was young and recently seeing the movie, I was filled with excitement. Sadly, when we got there, the house was closed because of COVID. Though disappointed, I found that just seeing the house itself was good enough. There was even a garden separated by the names of the sisters in Little Women, each with a description of who planted what. It made me miss my garden back home.

Right next door was the Hawthorne house. Similarly, the doors were closed because of COVID. But, the sun was setting, and tall yellow trees surrounded us. The golden paint on the house was chipping. There was a set of stairs made of stone behind the house that looked twice as old as me. It led to a small path through the grass and into the forest.

 It was just as good as being inside. 

Our last stop of the day was Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, specifically, Authors Ridge. Buried are Henry David Thoreau, Louisa May Alcott, Nathaniel and Sophia Hawthorne, and Ralph Waldo Emerson. Near most of their graves, visitors stuck pencils into the ground, a homage to their successful careers. Dead leaves were scattered all around their graves. It was a haunting yet equally thrilling sight. 

I admired Louisa May Alcott’s gravestone for some time. Surrounding the white marble stone buried into the ground were dozens of pens and pencils. There was a painted rock someone had left that read “Teach Peace.” There was also a teacup, several notes, and a Louisa May Alcott playing card, all of which looked new. Even in a time like this, people were still coming to her grave to pay their respects. 

Although the pandemic did hinder my experience in Concord–preventing me from entering the Hawthorne and Alcott houses–I did find my experience to be very refreshing. It inspired me as a writer but also as a lover of nature. Having been away from my small hometown in Maine for some time, as I now live in the city, I had forgotten just how stunning our world could be.

Even in the year 2020.