My son has finally seen a beaver in real life. The end of his childhood nears, which saddens and delights me at the same time. Will he ever find joy and creative influence in something as much as he did with his Beaver? I can only hope.
I fear this is Beaver’s last trek. Maybe there is one last trip, and I mourn the childhood too soon. In either event, Beaver had a fitting end. He saw his own kind.