FOCUS ON THE BEAVERS

My day started with the sighting of an Indigo Bunting which is so electrifying it can’t not be lucky. So small and ferociously blue… it seems impossible in this less-than-tropical climate, which makes it an even bigger treat. My mind is a miasma that is everywhere at once; the world and its Nazis, setting up a new record, ongoing musical preparations, home, springtime, and with all my loves. I keep trying to reel myself in, but the full moon has made that nearly impossible. “Shimmy back into your envelope of darkness, goddamn it! I need rest!” It’s as though the book and its tour never happened (which is crazy since it basically just happened!), save the residue of tiredness. 

I am frozen in a cocoon trying to invent new ways I can help the world. There are scant few meeting me here. Where are the punks at!? Where is the rage?” Is it just clicking its barbed little fingernails across its keyboard ordering shit on Amazon too? There just seems to be a weak smeared wash of “What are you gonna do? We are helpless…” where familiar faces should be. Seriously, FUCK that noise. I push away the dark thoughts. I must not be alone. There have to be others I know who remember, those who stand up?! Grrrrrr.

At least the sun is finally out and beloved longtime friends have visited over the weekend. I love having people come stay and enjoy the nature here. The beavers and their pond were a highlight. We even watched them as they sat on the shore gnawing big sticks. A keystone species right in the front yard! What are the chances? Such a gorgeous thing to witness. The edges of the pond have been sculpted into a lovely braid of sticks and mud. It’s stunning. I promise I’m working on getting the wildlife cam up as I don’t want to miss ANY baby beaver activity when they finally emerge, and yes, I plan to share. I may die when/if I see them, but I’m fine to go out that way. Speaking of, as I drove home in the dark last night from picking up ManFriend at the airport, we came to a spot on our road where we often see foxes. Sure enough, five babies scattered to the sides of the road as we approached, some even doing their tiny versions of the “snow dive” they do into the grass. They all turned and looked at us with their little ears perked up. My whole body clenched into a love-fist. They are so exquisitely cute. 

I remember a moment from last night when I stopped to get gas on the way to the airport. I took a moment to take Coco out of the car to get some fresh air and go to the bathroom in an adjacent meadow. It was golden hour on what has been the most stunning day of the year so far. The new grass rippled in its new green that will only happen this once. A little ways off I saw a long brown rabbit stretched out nibbling grass. What a beautiful little animal. It was unperturbed at the sight of me and my oblivious dog sniffing around. We looked at each other a while, then the soft creature retreated lazily back into the brush at a slow, awkward hop-walk. The distance between myself and where the rabbit had been was strewn with trash. All plastic junk food wrappers and cigarette butts, etc. mingled into the sublime green. My heart audibly broke. “That tawny, languid rabbit thinks this is normal,” I realized out loud. I teared up. “How many more times can my heart break?” I wondered this time in silence. Do you die when your heart won’t break any more? How can humans not notice, let alone care about this little meadow?

Focus on the beavers. I see a backhoe and a large dump truck in my driveway. The backhoe driver puts the big, clunky anchor feet down onto the dirt road and begins to dredge the mud and sticks out of the culvert (again) then emptying the contents into the back of the dump truck. I am confused. I never called my friend/neighbor who usually helps me to come and remove the beaver debris? The water hadn’t risen? Who were these people? I was in a zoom meeting so I asked ManFriend to go talk to them and find out what was going on. My anxiety was high. I love the beavers and I wanted no harm to come to them. ManFriendJeff returned just as my meeting ended. I accosted him with worry, “What are they doing?! What did they say???” He answered that they were town workers who were doing a routine clean of everyone’s culverts to help curb the bad flooding we’ve been having the last few years. “But the beavers!?” I begged. He told me not to worry. The workmen told him that there is new legislation in Vermont that says you aren’t even allowed to trap a beaver, let alone remove one, which the men had no desire to do anyway… Turns out they too admire beavers!  What an incredible relief! Sometimes there is good news. Keep your enemies close, and your beavers closer. XO

For your viewing pleasure, horrible, wiggly footage of beaver,Fred Mertz, gnawing a stick.