During one of my 'strictly one-hour' walks I was mildly surprised to find that my local Beaver population had apparently resorted to using chainsaws to fell trees.
Of course, the chainsaw bit was done by humans, the chewy bit by an actual Beaver. And I am also assuming the human finished what the animal had started in order to ensure that no-one walking in this area would be inconvenienced by 50 tons of tree hitting them.
More oddly, though, someone had written a wee note on the severed trunk:
It reads 'This was not Beavers. There are no Beavers in Coille-Bharr.'
I have to congratulate the detective. In the absence of teeth about 3 feet long, it was indeed apparent that there was likely a touch of human interference going on here.
I am assuming that the detective missed the great big bites out of the base, but there you go...
As I walked on, I happened to notice that our friend had taken to writing similar things on other trees:
I know, it's hard to tell the difference, isn't it?
As I left to go home, glancing about me occasionally in case I was accosted by a walker holding a pen and with a mad gleam in their eyes, I thought about many things; The sheer beauty of the day, the birdsong and the glinting of white and yellow petals against the forest floor. But try as I might, I couldn't get the thought out of my head:
Who goes for a walk with a felt-tip pen?