I once wrote you a story called “A Beaver Tale.” Unfortunately, to my point of view, the story was not over.
Mr. Landowner returned to his little cabin on a small lake in the north woods of Wisconsin. His aim was to improve the cabin itself by cementing in several stunning split rocks from the fireplace and chimney. The past 50 years had taken a toll on this impressive focal point of the humble little cottage in the lake country. Weather and winters of the north had weakened the mortar that held the rocks firmly together. Work and planning produced the lovely structure, and work and planning were required to maintain and strengthen it.
The planning and the collecting the appropriate materials and supplies came in good order. The calendar days slipped by rapidly. The day finally came when Mr. Landowner could make his way to his homey little place in the North Country.
The autumn scenery displayed its creative color scheming. Orange-red maple trees contrasted by verdant evergreens spread their cheery aura in the cabin yard and all around the little lake’s shore. Moderate temperatures and occasional cloud cover made the outdoor work comfortable.
Soon the scaffolding would be ready and he commenced the work he came to do. The landowner dutifully climbed up the ladder to the scaffolding and up onto the cabin roof where most of his work took place. As he worked at that elevated position, he spotted evidence of another worker.
The telltale wood chips of a beaver lay around the base of one tree next to the lake shore. The tree trunk had been eaten away on one side reaching into the heart of the tree. But that is not all. Two trees had already been downed by the pesky beaver. They lay with their branches submerged in the water!
Evidently the beaver had had plenty of practice and was doing his work more rapidly than before. On the other hand, he may have had a friend or a family with a particular bent to this landowner’s property. It was just handy that our landowner-friend had the foresight to bring along his own super hero… the chain saw. Even though he had much specialized work to do with the cement and stones, he could cut up the trees that Mr. Beaver and associates took down for him.
So when Mr. Landowner needed a rest from the cement work, he took a break… a beaver-work break. The drone of the power saw echoed amongst the trees surrounding the lake. The trunks were cut off and removed from the lakeshore. The sawdust left a signal for Mr. Beaver that he was not the only one who could work with trees. Short logs tethered to the good old John Deere lawn mower ascended the beachside hill to the cabin firewood woodpile.
Mr. Landowner fully expects the other tree to be down soon. So for this chapter of the story the beaver may get the last word. But the saga will continue. Someday, Mr. Beaver may decide he has met his match and will move on.