At the turning-around-point on my daily walk is a pond; a pond and a thick, tangled marsh. The pond was made by beavers in what was once a part of the river – an oxbow in the current of the South River's water that was cut off long ago. 

During the late 18th century through the early 20th century, the New England town of Conway was a bustling mill town. Each mill was associated with a dam built across the water to provide power. It was common practice to alter the river by straightening and damming, whether to power the mills or support the development of town roads and infrastructure. All of this straightening and damming has caused flooding and erosion problems in our current century of fiercer storms, however reorganizing the river to its original paths is a heck of a lot of expensive work. 

Nobody is quite sure how the oxbow came to be disconnected from its natural place in the river's current. One theory is that a large storm pushed the river past its curve and carved a new, straighter, path. At which point, people intervened and made the change more permanent.

There are kingfishers, snapping turtles, tiny fish, and otters. Red wing blackbirds, cattails, coyotes, and twisty ironwood trees. The beavers come and go, but their work has stayed put, creating this fascinating ecosystem in what is essentially a really big puddle.