I sit and watch the beaver, busy working on his dam. He wants to raise the Upper Pond on Beaver road so it's more for his suiting. He swims around the lake, busily carrying sticks around. He makes a grinding noise, and two Canadian Geese watch him. His fur is very nice and I'd love to have it for a cowboy hat.

Indeed the beaver is an impressive animal. He chews and chews on the log. Pop! Pop! Pop! Bugs buzz around me and my dog, and enjoy the weather almost as much as I do. In the distance I hear people talking, showing that while this habitat is pretty pure we aren't all that far away from the human world that most of us live our lives in. Cities are miles away, but a quick ride in my pickup gets me there. The sun is up and it is hot. It slowly causes sunburn, in areas not covered by my wool-felt cowboy hat or white t-shirt. It's so pleasant out here, but the sun does pose a threat to me.

I leave the beaver to do his thing. It's not my place to interfere with the beaver or take his fur. The city is beaconing me once again. A pickup truck rolls up and it's now time for me go.