After getting some advice from refuge staff about
canoeing, we drove down a gravel road that par-
allels the river to a launch site at Mac’s Bend.
While we readied the canoe for launching, a
few Canada Geese flew in, honking loudly, and
landed in the river. After putting our boat in the
water, we paddled upstream to test the current.
It wasn’t difficult to paddle against the broad,
slow-moving river, so we turned and
headed downstream toward the lake. Silver
Maples (tolerant of seasonal flooding) over-
hung the banks of the river, their leaves just
beginning to turn color. As we cruised along,
we saw Great Blue Herons at regular intervals,
standing motionless in the shallow water along
the shore stalking prey. Kingfishers flew out
from the trees, making a rattling call. A breeze
blew upstream, sparking small waves and chill-
ing my hands; my husband had wisely worn
neoprene gloves. Sunlight danced and glinted
off the water.
After about two miles, the river split into two
channels. We stopped on a point between the
channels (part of Metcalfe Island) for a break. As
we snacked, we noticed large freshwater mussels
underwater. One was turned on its side and was
moving, almost imperceptibly, leaving a trail in
the silt on the bottom. This was a revelation to
me, as I never knew mussels could move. It was
probably an Eastern Elliptio, the most common
species here. Missisquoi has other species of rare
mussels with colorful names like Giant Floater,
Pink Heelsplitter, and Pocketbook. Mussel shells
were scattered along the shoreline, evidence that
other residents of the refuge such as raccoon
and otter were enjoying this bonanza.
We continued downstream, following the main
channel. As we approached the lake, wildlife be-
came even more abundant. A Green Heron, its
long neck folded back onto its shoulders, shot
across the river in front of our bow. Great Blues
were everywhere. The channel narrowed and
divided again. Ahead of us was Shad Island,
where in spring Great Blue Herons build bulky
stick nests
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