The little people are stealing my trees. ­­ I saw this coming way back in March. My favorite little stand of poplars is becoming building materials for an enterprising family of busy beavers. Night after night they’re out there chomping away and pretty soon not a poplar will be standing. Every day I walk by and another tree has that distinctive wedge about 8 inches up the trunk—the next day it’s down. The trees goes down and the beaver lodge goes up. Multiple living rooms con

This handful of white poplars always makes me happy. For the longest time I thought they were birches. White bark = birches, right? But...