Beaver Crossing WSM Taking Note

It sometimes felt as though there were more animals than people in Weare, despite knowing full well the town’s population.

Obviously, there are some regional differences in the wildlife here and in New Hampshire. Are any of you familiar with fishers? They’re terrifying, weasel-like creatures that sound as though a human is screaming in the dark, ominous woods. Personally, I’m glad to be hundreds of miles away from them, although this region has its own freaky wildlife, i.e. snakes and snakes.

Much of the wildlife, though, is the same. Bears, raccoons, skunks, and all that good stuff has a presence throughout the Granite State.

The same goes for beavers, which my family learned about the hard way.

It was 1998 and we were fairly new to the state of New Hampshire after relocating from Massachusetts. Our new home was nestled into a tight-knit community — even with the houses being half-a-mile away from one another, or more. It wasn’t long that I was baking cookies with my sister and delivering them to Verna and Alicia, two of the street’s oldest residents, who let us in to eat the cookies with them and were fun to talk to.

Slowly, Alexe and I began making friends, and in fourth grade, I met Lauren. Our families became the Proctenbergs (Proctors and Kannenbergs) with many a game night and bonfire to follow — even to this day. They lived two miles up the road from us, which made summers quite an adventure. We would regularly meet at the pond that came right after Verna’s house. At the time, there was nothing but nature. Today, a quaint and idyllic maple sugar shack sits on the pond, pumping out production of maple syrup from lines that run through everyone’s woods.

The road switched to dirt at this point and we would all finish the trek back to one of our houses for the day. Our parents regularly drove back and forth up this road despite the lack of street lights, and when we could drive ourselves, we also learned to know it like the back of our hands.

With a new house came a new car (a black Honda Civic), which replaced our extremely old Ford Bronco. It was a zippy little car, not quite ideal for a winter in New Hampshire but if you know what you’re doing in the snow, it’s not horrible.

However, it wasn’t meant to handle a large-sized beaver that happened to cross the street in the dark right as we were driving past the pond. This unfortunate turn of events resulted in the slaying of the resident beaver, doing some serious damage to her car and to the hearts of the rest of the beaver’s family.

It didn’t take too long before a loving neighbor put up the beaver crossing sign, hung at the start of the road right near our new house. It’s something we still laugh about today.

You’ll be happy to know that the beavers are back, and have been for quite a while. It doesn’t stop the neighbors from telling newcomers to watch for them, though.

Be well,

Katlyn

It sometimes felt as though there were more animals than people in Weare, despite knowing full well the town’s population. 

Obviously, there are some regional differences in the wildlife here and in New Hampshire. Are any of you familiar with fishers? They’re terrifying, weasel-like creatures that sound as though a human is screaming in the dark, ominous woods. Personally, I’m glad to be hundreds of miles away from them, although this region has its own freaky wildlife, i.e. snakes and snakes. Much of the wildlife, though, is the same. Bears, raccoons, skunks, and all that good stuff has a presence throughout the Granite State. The same goes for beavers, which my family learned about the hard way. It was 1998 and we were fairly new to the state of New Hampshire after relocating from Massachusetts. Our new home was nestled into a tight-knit community — even with the houses being half-a-mile away from one another, or more. It wasn’t long that I was baking cookies with my sister and delivering them to Verna and Alicia, two of the street’s oldest residents, who let us in to eat the cookies with them and were fun to talk to. Slowly, Alexe and I began making friends, and in fourth grade, I met Lauren. Our families became the Proctenbergs (Proctors and Kannenbergs) with many a game night and bonfire to follow — even to this day. They lived two miles up the road from us, which made summers quite an adventure. We would regularly meet at the pond that came right after Verna’s house. At the time, there was nothing but nature. Today, a quaint and idyllic maple sugar shack sits on the pond, pumping out production of maple syrup from lines that run through everyone’s woods. The road switched to dirt at this point and we would all finish the trek back to one of our houses for the day. Our parents regularly drove back and forth up this road despite the lack of street lights, and when we could drive ourselves, we also learned to know it like the back of our hands. With a new house came a new car (a black Honda Civic), which replaced our extremely old Ford Bronco. It was a zippy little car, not quite ideal for a winter in New Hampshire but if you know what you’re doing in the snow, it’s not horrible. However, it wasn’t meant to handle a large-sized beaver that happened to cross the street in the dark right as we were driving past the pond. This unfortunate turn of events resulted in the slaying of the resident beaver, doing some serious damage to her car and to the hearts of the rest of the beaver’s family.It didn’t take too long before a loving neighbor put up the beaver crossing sign, hung at the start of the road right near our new house. It’s something we still laugh about today.  You’ll be happy to know that the beavers are back, and have been for quite a while. It doesn’t stop the neighbors from telling newcomers to watch for them, though.  

Be well, 

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