all on Beaver Island is marked by apples ripening in the abandoned orchards, the foraging of herds of deer and the cackling of the Canadian Geese stopping by for a week or two on their way to the deep south. Firewood cutters go on theprowl for windblown downfalls. The leaves start to change color in late-September, those near the streams and inland lakes turning first. As they fall, the true shape of the land reveals itself. The sun sets earlier, and a chill is in the evening breeze. We're apprehensive about winter, until the sun comes blazing through. Winter>>
