Beaver Lake

One morning, not so long ago, my husband and I walked together.  We followed a muddy wisp of a trail along the river to a beaver pond, or lake, as it’s called, Beaver Lake. The sun shone in our eyes and made the frost on the trees glint. We were chilled at first but the…

I Know This Place

We have a painting on our wall of a nearby lake.   Miners once lived there.  They built their houses into the cliffs above the lake and dug deep into the mountain looking for silver and gold. They built stores and hotels, bridges and roads.  Now it is wilderness and the lake is popular with backpackers…

Walking The Whitechuck

Dents are what we look for, slight indentations in the ground, places where railroad ties might have once laid on the ground.  There are three of us, Gretchen and Chuck and myself.   We’ve turned back once after discovering snow on the road, and realized the truck we have will never make the steep grade to…