They wax and wain. They move, they change.

Even where I grew up, the woods are always changing. Some of our woods are old growth that have been changing over as the old White Pines die from blister rust. That opens up the canopy and regen comes up in it's place. Usually Aspen and Alder. In the meadow, where no White Pines have sprouted in hundreds of years, suddenly they start to spring up like magic when they feel the old tree has died. They compete until one major tree grows and the others whither. The Red Pines are expanding into the meadow to the east. When I was a kid, it was almost completely open. Now it's almost 100% covered with Red Pine. The twisted blue cedar remains the unchanged in it's little enclave. Unchanging. Next to the cedar swamp is the black spruce bog. All muskeg and skinny trees that could be 400 years old for all we know. Once you're inside the bog, it's pitch black at high noon. The ground is untrustworthy, you should stay out in the summer.

The creek meanders and new oxbows form. Where an oxbow lake appears, the Balm of Gilead comes up along with Diamond Willow. The Bam grows faster than weed. Many feet per year. Eventually, the oxbow dries up, the creek keeps moving, the beavers cut down all the Bam and aspen and make a new dam. Now there's a new pond for a while killing off some of the trees which will attract creatures that will live in the dead tree stump.

Tomorrow, new things will happen.