Seven Brides for Seven Salamanders

This is one of the many beaver ponds in state game lands 176, also known as the Scotia Pine Barrens. It's frozen over now and covered in snow.

The game lands are a short walk from our house and we go there often. On a day when we're "not going anywhere," sometimes we come here. On this particular day, we found the trails on the hill somewhat ice-covered and a bit treacherous in spots. But we persevered. It was good to get out and get some exercise in the brisk air.

We saw the beaver who lives here at least twice. Once, it was swimming in the pond and gave a loud SLAP! and disappeared when it saw us. Another time, around 8 pm on a summer's evening, it was sitting in the water at the lower right part of this image. I sat and watched it for fifteen minutes or more as it chomped away quite happily on a tree branch. Al fresco dining at its best!

There is a beaver run to the right outside the edge of this picture - the place where the bank is worn down from the beaver dragging huge logs and branches down from the woods. Beavers must be very strong; some of the parts of trees I've seen here are quite large and heavy, so heavy that two of us couldn't lift them!

I see salamanders here often, when the pond is water, not ice. And one time - oh marvel of marvels! - we arrived on a cold March day when the pond was still frozen, and saw SEVEN SALAMANDERS walking on the ice! I might not believe such a thing but I was there and saw it with my own eyes!

The seven salamanders were striding across the ice with great purpose and intent. Most likely, it had something to do with a spring mating season. OK, so maybe you've heard of the musical Seven Brides for Seven Brothers? Perhaps it was something like that.

Salamander 1: "Well, Fred, it's springtime . . . time to hike across the pond and meet a nice girl on the other side!"

Salamander 2: "OK, Bob, put on your best bib and tucker, and your winter booties, and let's get cracking! No time to waste!"

*sound of tiny tromping of feet; fade to black*