In the corner of a golf course are a couple of established oak trees as well as an old tree stump. Usually after a rain, a variety of mushrooms pops up from the earth in this very corner.
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.
