In October, Thoreau forages for apples and chestnuts in the meadows. He admires—but does not gather—the “small waxen gems” (405) of cranberries he finds. He bemoans the way local farmers harvest these berries with ugly rakes, “leaving the smooth meadow in a snarl, heedlessly measuring them by the bushel and the dollar only, [selling] the spoils of the meads to Boston and New York” (405). Mindful of his encroachment upon nature, Thoreau collects no more than he needs. 

Thoreau takes great pleasure in watching the leaves turn around Walden Pond, appreciating the fiery colors. He writes, “Ah, many a tale their color told! And gradually from week to week the character of each tree came out, and it admired itself reflected in the smooth mirror of the lake” (408). 

The pond eventually freezes over, and Thoreau amuses himself with walks on the ice. He observes spherical bubbles, noting that those “within the ice are not so numerous nor obvious as those beneath” (420). Breaking off pieces of ice to study, Thoreau learns how ice forms around the bubbles and comes to understand how they operate “like a burning glass” when the ice melts, like “little air-guns which contribute to make the ice crack and whoop” (422).