When I arrived at my front row seat, the sun had already started to set. I looked out across the pond and saw wood ducks preening on low tree branches and splashing in the water.
Clumps of crescent-shaped seed pods embellished a dried plant that stood a few feet tall. The plant lined an open trail and called for a closer examination.
The ice over the pond was thinning, betraying the dark water beneath its increasingly transparent surface. A trio of beavers was there.
