Beaver Chronicles Part 2: The Beast & the Beauty

...and so of COURSE I went in after the boat. The last thing I remember thinking before I hit the cold water was, 'Stop thinking. GO.' Appropriately, a variety of four letter words spewed forth like a sailor with every step I took. God has some kind of special filter for me that always seems to take my colorful expressions and translates them into an acceptable effective prayer, not exactly speaking in tongues, but similar. I made it back with kayak in hand and without metal spikes impaled or wildlife hanging from my leg. I had pulled a muscle pretty badly in my back but I wouldn't know about that for several hours later because of the adrenaline pumping thru me. As I set the boat down securely this time I hear a big splash a few feet away. The Beaver of Death had been on my side of the riverbank only a few feet away from where I was. If I hadn't dropped the boat, I would have walked right upon him. I went running over to where he had gone in because even with having been scared to death I was also still mesmerized and extremely curious. Even though I knew he was potentially dangerous, I still wanted to get close to him. This is where the serendipity sets in. As I stand there dripping wet, armed with a paddle in each hand, hypnotized watching him swim back across to the little island, a woman in a kayak appears. No one is ever on the river. I can be down there for hours and never see another human soul & suddenly there she is. I can see her out of the corner of my eye but can't take my eyes off the beaver gliding thru the water. As I am standing there frozen she watches my face to see what I am staring at all the while coming closer. Right as he reaches land she spots him. We both watch this huge wet beautiful monster pull himself gracefully from the water and scamper up the bank onto the island. The golden haired lady involuntarily yells, "COOL!" and immediately proceeds to do what I had done only minutes before and that was to row toward the beaver. Being a woman of many words, I hold up my hand and shake my head and say, "Stop." She excitedly asks if that is a beaver & I tell her," Yes, a very aggressive one, he just came after me." She stops the boat and says, "OH. This is close enough". Still watching the beaver we start talking. I never talk to anyone at the river, I go there specifically to not talk. I never acknowledge other kayakers and they usually do the same. She starts telling me about a lady who was attacked by a beaver on the river. I said "yeah, I was just thinking about her." It turns out she KNOWS her, she had 48 stitches and rabies shots & every year commemorates the attack with a big party she calls a Beaver Bash. HA! I had seen the signs before, now I knew what they meant. So here is someone appearing out of no where right as I see a beaver for the first time who happens to know the woman who got attacked by one. How weird this conversation is does not hit me until much later. At the time it felt like we both had movie lines, a script we were supposed to say. To be honest I wasn't even paying much attention as she is still in the water, I am keeping an eye on our furry friend to make sure he doesn't head her way. She tells me how brave the beaver bash lady is because she still gets out in the river, which was useful information since my legs were like jello and was wondering if I ever would. She asks me a few questions about the river and kayaking, tells me all the rivers she has whitewatered on, big time stuff. I tell her I am strictly boring calm flatwater. That day was the first time she had been on the water in 7 years. That very day. I didn't ask why but it seemed significant. I commented what an eventful day she had chosen, getting to see the beaver. Then she says she had just seen an eagle as well. I have spent many hours on that river & know all the local animals that hang out there. Or so I believed until then. I had never seen an eagle in all that time. I figured she was one of those people that every time they see a buzzard or a hawk they think it's an eagle. I told her about the blue herons & the white egrets that live there and that I had just seen a hawk before the beaver. She had seen them all too & then pointed to a dead tree right around the bend and said that's where she had seen the eagle. I finally looked at her face for the first time & I knew she had really seen one. We parted ways and she said to keep an eye out for the eagle in case she scared him up. I squat down in the grass to watch the beaver & my new friend paddle away. A few minutes later I turn my head to see how far downriver she has gotten when a large bird lifts up from the tree around the bend and starts to fly directly toward me. It is an eagle. He flies right over me. I turn to wave at her to tell her I saw him. I turn back to search the sky for another glimpse of the eagle. I look back to smile at the woman & wave goodbye but she is gone. So is my headache I realize. Then it all starts to hit me, everything that had just happened. I see a beaver, had never seen one down there before. I HAD to be at the river, even with a migraine which I never get, maybe 3 or 4 my entire life. When the beaver got aggressive I immediately think of a woman whom I have never met, only to meet another woman a few seconds later who happens to know her. In seven years this woman has not been in a boat and decides today she will. The day we both happen to get to watch a beaver. What are the odds? And then she effortlessly sends me an endangered species, a rare bird, to fly right over me. Everything seemed so symbolic and full of meaning. Was she sent there at that moment for me? Did she somehow cause something bad to not happen? Did she save me? Did I somehow save her? The entire meeting felt like Divine appointment, perfectly and meticulously timed. I don't know if I will ever get to know why or what happened but know in my heart it was important. Will I ever see her again? Was she ever really there? Was she an angel? By the time Gaston came back for me & my boat, I had made peace with Mr. Beaver across the way. I watched him lift his face to the sun and we regarded one another from a respectful distance. I showed him to Gaston but had used up my quota of words for the day with the River Lady so didn't even tell him all that had happened til later. I began to realize how differently things could have turned out that day & all summer. Sophie following behind me in the water, resting on the island. Hank & Wolfgang swimming past the island, all the nights of catfishing in the dark & little Nacho running around like a little snack We also talked about how much things could change if Mr. Beaver decides to move in. Gaston gleefully offered to "take care of " the Beast for me but I said no. He has as much right to be there as I do. Actually more. So we will have to see what will come from having a new resident at the river. He may not have invited me in for a cup of tea, but he sure was the catalyst for one of my strangest days ever. I made two new friends, a Beast & a Beauty. I hope to see both of them again one day. Be blessed River Lady, wherever & whatever you may be. Peace to you Mr. Beaver. Thanks for a most memorable day. . We sure aren't in Narnia anymore...or are we?