We took a walk on Sunday down a road off Rte 122 that lead to water. It was a road that once connected one of the submerged towns: Dana, Enfield, and Prescott, that now lie beneath the mighty Quabbin reservoir. It was a fitful spring day, with gusty breezes blowing that forced us to find shelter near a beaver pond to enjoy our picnic lunch.
We found a good spot and admired the handiwork of the beavers, who had built a dam with the water just about spilling over the top. There was one big tree about nine inches around that had been felled, almost for no purpose, since it was too big to help build the dam. We walked across it, gingerly, the dam that had created a nice little pond, right next to the big Quabbin.
Lisa wondered aloud how these beavers cleaned off their teeth when they chewed through young pine trees, which seeped sap where the teethmarks were. Nobody was able to use Google to get this answer, try as we might.
On the way back along the road we came upon a snake about 18 inches long. It had a lovely maroon and black pattern on its back, and it tilted its head up slightly, feigning sleep, I guess. It remained stock still as we shot its photo, and we tried to figure out what species it was, not milk, not corn, but not a garter snake either.