We are surrounded here by logging roads and snowmobile trails. Sometimes they are one and the same. A logging road is a beautiful thing. It is a well maintained single lane road through the woods. It is smooth and wide enough for a fairly large vehicle (sometimes a skidder or a tractor, but an 18-wheeler could easily fit on the “path”) to travel down. In some cases, where the need arises, there are very nicely made and maintained bridges over the little streams.
We have been bike riding down one of these paths. Last week I found a place in the path where a beaver had taken up residence. This branch of this road would be a snowmobile trail, which in winter, would be frozen over and covered in snow, you would never know there was anything under there.
First I saw the tell-tale beaver wood.
I had to stop and get off my bicycle because this swampy-ness that is the beaver’s front yard was all the way across the path. Right in front of me I saw the very tip of a tail disappear into the water. After looking around a bit I saw this:
All beaver wood. Like a river of sticks. Not sticks though, some of these are big trees. Then I walked into the woods a little and saw his house, his lodge. I have seen beavers build into the side of river banks, and have seen the tops of lodges sticking out of the water, but never one on the floor of the woods. In spring, this whole area must be flooded.
This lodge was as tall as I am. I love living here.