Last night we stopped down after dinner for a little beaver watching. Mom was out by 7:30 and making the customary rounds. She looked a little scruffier and skinnier but not horrible and her eyes look small but less swollen and affected. She did some graceful display swimming to show off for the visitors from amtrak (who picked up the flier and came to see for themselves) and then some sneaky swimming, leaving a rapid trail of bubbles from the lodge to the dam before she shot up and over and swam downstream. No difficulties moving around, apparently.
The primary dam is tightly woven and lovingly surfaced with mud. It looks better than I’ve seen it in months. And the amtrak people said they watched Dad earlier working on one of the secondary dams down below. Very impressive water management. Maybe he heard about his cousins building the dam visible from space and had a little spurt of jealous motivation. It was warm and familiar to see them and their work and know that even if our yearlings are off on their own and grown up (?) we still have a very active beaver colony.
I know a beaver blog can’t simply act horrified every day at the oil that’s gushing into the gulf, but this week has been beyond terrifying and I can’t help myself. Obama’s decision to form a commission to study the spill should be comforting to no one unless his real plan is to use those weighty prominent members to PLUG THE PIPE. We don’t need to study the leak. We need to STOP IT. They’ll be plenty of time to not-blame BP later. We need to stop the leak, not save oil, not save face, not hide the damage, but STOP THE LEAK. Putting BP in charge of the process is like letting Nazi’s promise to resolve the holocaust by sponsoring a “Truth and Reconciliation” commission. The EPA firmly told them Friday to find a different dispersant, and BP answered very respectfully “you’re not my mom, you can’t make me”. Now scientists are saying that these fragile marshlands might be impossible to clean. Mind you, these are the pathway for 75% of our migrating birds. So remember the next time you take out your binoculars in Oregon, or Colorado or Wisconsin or Quebec and go try to add to your lifelist between now and 2060 you probably won’t get the numbers you’re used to. Don’t believe me? Watch this:
