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| As we wander down the road towards the woodsy trails, I think of my friend who used to walk with us. She moved away, but we still keep in touch. I miss our endless conversations. We would walk for miles without ever running out of things to say. As we reach the beaver ponds, I think of how much my friend would enjoy seeing this at this time of the year. The ice has pretty much disappeared and the surface of the ponds are as still as glass. I can hear the cold water sift it's way through tightly knit logs of the dam. The sound of it is peaceful and soothing. I don't see any fresh signs of the beavers... however, but it's early yet. They may not have awoken from their winter slumbers. |
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