Monday and Tuesday were blustery and quite cold. I feared that the ice in Willow's pond would freeze solid and she would no longer be able to get to her food cache. On Monday, Zoot and I set out with loppers and a bow saw. We arrived at the pond at dusk.
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Zoot helps decide which trees the beavers would like. |
Beavers tend to be pretty fussy about what they cut, and I found myself judging the beech saplings, trying to intuit what a beaver would select. I chose those that seemed most vigorous, though I'm not sure those are the ones the beavers would choose. I was impressed by how far up the steep hillside by the pond those beavers had hoisted themselves in their own logging expeditions.
I used a stout pole to break the thin ice by the dam and shoved the saplings into the pond. Temperatures were in the single digits and I knew the hole I made would freeze over again quickly, but the bark and small twigs on my offering should keep the beavers happy for a few days.
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On Tuesday I returned with a sled-load of poplar from Anne's house. The fat moon lit the wintry
stream valley. I brought a splitting maul, and good thing. The ice was so thick I needed it to break a hole. I popped of couple of apples under the ice too. I hope Willow and her beau will enjoy these offerings in the comfort of their burrow.
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