Maybe I'm getting a little off message here, but so what. I just came in from a cold, drizzly after-dinner walk by the river. At the sandbar upstream from the railroad bridge, where only a few old logs were stuck in the sand on the day of the Ski to Sea race, there is now a good-sized new-fallen tree trunk lodged cross-ways to the current, which is running fast and high. I spotted a big brown lump on the trunk, which turned out to be a pretty hefty beaver, munching on bark and twigs stripped off the fresh tree.
Two summers ago, just after I first moved to Ferndale, I watched a crew in power boats dismantle the old haystack-sized wood pile by the railroad bridge. A guy who stopped to watch with me said it was a beaver lodge, built by some really big beavers. I thought he was just twitting me a bit.
Now that the race is over, I hope they'll let the beavers alone. The critters seem determined to stay, and it's a shame to tear down so much hard work.
No comments:
Post a Comment