The day is sunny and warm.  The fish are biting just enough to keep it interesting.

Every floating log provides refuge for heaps of turtles.  Splop, splop, splop;  the log empties at our approach.  I wonder how many times a day those guys crawl out into the sun?

A brown moss covered rock on shore at the water’s edge actually turns out to be an adult beaver.  I suppose he is the one we saw yesterday.  He’s taking a nap and rouses very slowly.  Eyes blink.  He watches us.  The head comes up, he uncurls and we see that big ole tail.  Calmly he slips into the water and disappears.  Just a bit further into the bay we find the beaver lodge and watch a young beaver devouring leaves from fresh tender shoots that had been placed nearby.