It reminded me about wildfires here in Biscuit Hollow. Every year about this time, Grandpa Morehouse felt that along with the spring chores of fixing fence, cleaning roadside ditches, spreading the manure pile from a winter’s worth of wheelbarrow loads, he needed to burn something. He liked to burn off the old grass and brush and liked the way things greened up so nicely afterwards. And every couple of years, the fire would get away from him, out of control, and burn areas that he didn’t intend to be burned. The call would go out for help and we all would grab our brooms and old burlap bags soaked in water and try to beat out the flames before they got any worse.
I remember when I was 12-14 years old, a fire spread into the woods in what we call the ravine. It was the lower end, not too far from their retirement home, still on our property. Lynn and I had raced back to the stream to a pool of water to re-wet our burlap bags and brooms, right about where this pool is. As I bent close over the stream, there was a large splash, soaking me and hitting me in the face. I yelled at Lynn to stop throwing stones, the act of which of course he denied. I bent over again and was once again hit in the face with a splash of water. I jumped back, preparing to trounce my younger brother for his discourteous manner, but clearly saw he was innocent, pointing mouth agape at the water. Looking back to the stream where I had been kneeling, I saw a beaver, just as he slapped his tail, splashing us again. Apparently this was a yearling male beaver, kicked out of his hooch and on his search for a new family and love interest as the beaver family’s method of gene dispersal requires them to do, so it is written.
It was the first time I recall seeing a beaver in the wild and it would be many years before the beavers established themselves along the creek not too far away.
Maybe there’s a little pyromania in me, because I have to admit I enjoyed the excitement of the grass fires. And I agreed with Grandpa that things sure did green up nicely after a fire. Several years ago, a small fire escaped the control of our hunting camp neighbor on the hill and the fire department was actually called. It was brought under control before it spread too far, but it did burn through the apple orchard and into the field on top of the hill. I learned from that experience that if a fire spreads off your own land, spreading on to Tim’s land in this case, penalties are levied. I guess I’ve lost some of the adventuresome spirit of youth, long before my Grandpa Morehouse. I’ll err to the side of caution and burn my brush piles when I am certain it will be safe. I hope.
It was the first time I recall seeing a beaver in the wild and it would be many years before the beavers established themselves along the creek not too far away.
Maybe there’s a little pyromania in me, because I have to admit I enjoyed the excitement of the grass fires. And I agreed with Grandpa that things sure did green up nicely after a fire. Several years ago, a small fire escaped the control of our hunting camp neighbor on the hill and the fire department was actually called. It was brought under control before it spread too far, but it did burn through the apple orchard and into the field on top of the hill. I learned from that experience that if a fire spreads off your own land, spreading on to Tim’s land in this case, penalties are levied. I guess I’ve lost some of the adventuresome spirit of youth, long before my Grandpa Morehouse. I’ll err to the side of caution and burn my brush piles when I am certain it will be safe. I hope.
1 comment:
It would have been really cool to have a video of the beaver splashing you. Very interesting!
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