A steady roar sounded in the woods. The tree canopy shimmered with traveling fixtures of light that bounced off transparent wings. I stood outside and took in the sights and sounds. Then I noticed someone on my shoulder.
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.
