Knowing it was going to be warmer today, we decided to venture to a local park where the snow pack would be less. That doesn’t sound right coming from this snow queen, but we didn’t feel like postholing or having snow stuck to the bottoms of our snowshoes.

This is a place where we know beavers are active. And I, of course, went with expectations. And convinced My Guy that we should begin and end at the bog.

And bingo–a beaver-chewed tree that had probably been munched upon this past fall based on the color of the sapwood greeted us immediately.

But do you see the lodge in the background?

Here’s a closer look. Fully iced in and no mud on the exterior. This one had been active for several years, but today we learned that that is no longer the case.

Still, as we moved past it, there was another tree (on the left) that had been equally munched upon this past fall, while the color of the wood on the tree to the right indicated activity from a previous year.

There was even a dam, but I was beginning to lose hope. And to kick myself for coming with expectations. When will I ever learn?

Because we were in a park, there were structures and behind one close to the path, we found an Eastern Phoebe nest upon a platform placed there for the very bird to set up housekeeping each spring.

The cool thing was that the Phoebe wasn’t the only structure dweller, for directly below her nest a Funnel Weaver Spider had constructed an intricate home. I love all the guylines meant to keep the web intact, in fact it worked so well, that the winds of the fall and winter didn’t seem to have touched it. Well done, spider!

As we continued on, I thought about the gems this place offers, including this beautiful old Yellow Birch standing on stilts. As I noted in Becoming Tree Wise, the seeds of Yellow Birch, like Eastern Hemlock, struggle to germinate on the forest floor, but give them a moss-covered rock, or tree stump, or nurse log, and bingo, a tree grows on it. As it continues to grow, the roots seek the ground below and if it is upon a stump or log that eventually rots away, you have a tree in the forest that appears to stand on stilted legs. Tada!

Our trail was sometimes bare and other times snowy or icy, so we did don microspikes, which turned out to be the perfect choice most of the time.

At the summit of what is known as Lookout Trail, the view is of the forest beyond, but we did look down at the picnic table and discovered mushrooms growing on the wood. The cap was like a tapestry of oranges and yellows and rosy browns.

It was the underside, however, that aided ID: Gloeophyllum sepiarium (Rusty-gilled Polypore or Conifer Mazegill).

Occasionally there were brooks to cross and icicles to admire and sounds of percolating water flowing beneath the ice to encourage stopping for a few minutes to take it all in.

Heading downhill, in a boulder field below a granite ledge we discovered the territory of one very busy Red Squirrel. Middens covered numerous rocks.

And I could only imagine what the original cache had looked like. Since it takes two years for pinecones to mature, next year this squirrel may not be so fortunate, but living in the here and now, life is good.

At last we reached the lake for which the park is named and for the second year in a row, it did not freeze this winter. Being the second largest lake in Maine, it covers 45 square miles and at its deepest hole is over 300 feet in depth.

We backtracked a birds trail along the water’s edge and found our way to the perfect lunch spot.

The view from lunch rock found us dining with few words shared as we took in the vastness of this space while small waves broke along the shoreline and we realized we could have been at the coast.

Back on the trail, we hiked a couple more miles before returning to the bog’s opposite shoreline. Surely, the beaver would not let me down.

And there is was. The lodge that is. With mud on it. That meant a family could have overwintered in this one.

Wouldn’t you feel warm and cozy inside that building?

And there was evidence that another tree had been dined upon in the fall. But . . . no signs of smaller trees being cut for a food supply. Are they still home? I do not know, but maybe another visit in a month or so will reveal the truth.

There was, however, lots of sign that humans had been cutting trees: to clear trails so people like us could enjoy them.

And we did as we journeyed the West Side of Sebago Lake State Park.

So you must be wondering why this was an Oopsy of a Mondate. No, I didn’t fall. Nor did My Guy.

In fact, we had a wonderful time exploring and loved every minute of our adventure.

But . . . there was some logging going on and it wasn’t until we got home and I looked at the Sebago Lake State Park website that I discovered this message: February 25, 2024 | Campground infrastructure improvements begin tomorrow, Monday 2/26/2024. While heavy trucking activities occur, State Camping Rd. in Naples will be closed to foot-traffic for public safety. However, the Day Use Area, found at 11 Park Access Rd. in Casco will remain open to visitors. Thank you for your patience and understanding while these improvements occur.

Oopsy. Don’t follow our footsteps, but rather go to the Day Use Area instead.