Lost and found is my eureka! blog, my rediscovery of my short fiction and poetry submissions published in literary magazines and university literary journals some decades ago. Interspersed, occasionally, with more recent, hitherto unpublished pieces.
There were two kits sighted fortuitously by an alert hiker, splashing in the urban forest creek, unconcerned with the interest of a human. Where the young can be found the adults will be concerned with practicalities of existence.
Wildlife co-exists where it is feasible in the near presence of human settlement, and urban forests represent their precinct, more than it does a city dweller's. The creek running through the damp, wooded ravine is nature's own storm catchment where the beavers, scoping for a new home, assessed plentiful stands of poplar, the lay of the land, and the assurance of an ongoing water source.
The creek now no longer runs steadily clear and modest in volume during these summer days. It has become bloated in a succession of stagnant pools of still, standing water, mud-filled and detritus-laden.
The industrious beavers have demonstrated the nature of their architectural environmental skills and sensibilities. Theirs, proudly now the turgid creek with its steadily rising surface and collapsing banks; their element, their possession by right of natural conquest.
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