In late August, Thoreau goes grape-picking and tries out a couple of other local bites (provided by nature, of course). By September, he notices that the maple trees are already changing color. In October, his house is swarming with wasps.
Fast forward to November: Thoreau has constructed a chimney for his home, with some help from a visiting poet. Who knew poets could do manual labor?
Thoreau thinks that having a big house is uncool. When you have a small house, you spend more time with your guests.
With winter approaching, the pond is covered with ice. It's ripe for ice skating, but, instead, Thoreau spends his time chopping wood to keep him warm through the winter.
There's definitely some romance in cooking outside, but the next year, Thoreau gets a stove and loses the romance.