Sleepy Hollow

Nathaniel Hawthorne’s grave site.

Someone wrote Hawthorne a birthday note

He’s buried in Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, in Concord, Massachusetts. He died in 5/19/1864, and his pallbearers included Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and Amos Bronson Alcott (Louisa May Alcott’s father). Hard to imagine the conversation that took place that day.


As Mr. Alcott stood facing Hawthorne’s tombstone he could have looked over his right shoulder and viewed his own future grave site, and that of his daughter, 24 years later. It’s no more than 40 yards away. Amos and Louisa died two days apart and had a joint funeral. 

Adjacent to the Alcott’s family plot is the grave of Henry David Thoreau, who died of tuberculosis 2 years before Hawthorne. Walden Pond, the place where Thoreau lived for two years and inspired his classic book “Walden”, is close by.

  

Emerson could have walked up a short hill past the Alcott’s and viewed his future grave site. It’s only a stone’s throw from where he stood as pallbearer. He died 18 years after Hawthorne of pneumonia.

Sleepy Hollow Cemetery has beautiful rolling hills and trees that may be as old as those buried there. I have read that Hawthorne and his wife Sophia would walk this area when it was still farmland and dream of building a house on one of the hills. Later it became their grave site, but she was not moved there until 2006, after their descendants moved her and their daughter from their burial site in England.

Hawthorne was born in Salem, Massachusetts on July 4, 1804. His birth house was saved from being torn down in favor of a parking lot in 1958, and it now stands on the same property as the fabled House of the Seven Gables. Hawthorne first became acquainted with the place after his cousin inherited the house and estate. She suggested he use the house as a backdrop for a story, and the wrote his famous novel after publishing "The Scarlet Letter".

Walden Pond is now a state park and a walking trail circles the pond and woods that inspired Thoreau during his two year stay there. The location of his cabin is marked, although the cabin was removed after he vacated it.  .

Sign at the site of his cabin. Fans have built rock cairns in the background.

The trail around Walden Pond

Shadows

   

     Shadowy distortions fall across the page. Some are pronounced, like those cast by my left hand as I write. Others are more diffracted, like the translucent shadow from my water bottle, or those filtering through trees before reaching my notepad.

    Words are that way. We must look beyond the reflections to dig out true meaning. Some words are sharp and defined while others are murky and deceptive.

    My writing is like that by design. Let the reader fill in some of the blanks using their own life experiences but don’t overdo it. Readers want to be presented with a story rather than write it themselves. The meaning of my words can vary from person to person. Obscurity can bring out a childhood memory; they may wonder “where did that thought come from?” and then it becomes clear. Merge between darkness and light by stepping over a distinct line, like the sharp edges of my hand’s shadow. The reader’s experience can range from happiness to old memories that cause despair, and anything in between.

    Peeking around a sharp-edged wall of shadow and looking outward, the world seems much brighter but less defined. What can be more uniform and steady than darkness? You can’t see what surrounds you. Your eyes adjust, but shadows loom that are impossible to see through. Sounds hidden during the day present themselves after nighttime settles in. Perhaps this is the greatest fear. Instead of stumbling among familiarity you must deal with unfamiliar nocturnal creatures of the night. Daytime birds retreat and other creatures emerge. A stranger who hides in darkness is not the same person lurking about in daytime shadows.

    A new world emerges. Familiar ground becomes fresh again. And I like to use this realm of the unknown in my writing.  It’s obviously fiction, but close enough to reality to make one pause.