Here is the little Hobbit house where I lay my hairy feet. If ever you feel like voyaging in and out of days – over and under rivers to where the Walden things are, we will be certain to Rumpus.
WHEN I WROTE the following pages, or rather the bulk of them, I lived alone, in the woods, a mile from any neighbor, in a house which I had built myself, on the shore of Walden Pond, in Concord, Massachusetts, and earned my living by the labor of my hands only.(1) I lived there two years and two months. At present I am a sojourner in civilization again. -Thoreau