stop.

Last week we were out at the lake and found this. We've been watching our busy beaver working diligently through the fall but only seeing signs of jobs he'd gotten done, finished work, trees on the ground, spiky trunk nubs. This half-gnawed tree spoke to me. It said: busy beaver, bit by bit, just keep going, he bit off more than he could chew, unfinished business.

This beaver tree was right beside where we usually park the car and essentially the beginning of our "trail." About a half mile up the way, out of sight of the car and any other civilization, I spot this. 

This long abandoned and heavily overgrown roadway with careful guard rail and leaning sign spoke to me. It said: STOP. We continued our walk over the lake's dam, into the marshlands where we watched a bald eagle finish his supper and flushed a handful of snipe. We walked apart sometimes and we walked together sometimes, but in complete silence most times.

Two hours later and we were back to the car and back to Mr. Beaver's tree. It spoke to me. It said the same thing to me as it said to him: STOP.