In the fall beavers are working tirelessly to cut down enough trees to store in their food cache outside of their lodge to provision themselves through the long cold winter. Indeed, beaver lodges are something to behold – to think a beaver can construct such a house out of mud and sticks. I love visiting these places when the grasses turn a dark yellow hue and the maples light up with a vibrant red. This particular lodge was captivating as it was at the base of a majestic white pine standing tall among the northern forests. The day was calm and the rush of duck wings could be heard above as they headed south after a long summer in the north. Leaves softly dripped down and came to rest on the glassy waters below. Though it was fall the air had a deep warmth to it, a warmth that soaks into your bones and soul, and fills you with a subtle joy. It was a beautiful place to rest a while and admire all the wonder in the natural world.