Mar 29 2025
Young Marsh Meander
A couple days ago, while the sun was shining brightly at midday, I drove to the nearby Missisquoi National Wildlife Refuge to go for a walk. I took my binoculars with me, just in case. Good thing I did. A fellow birder pointed out a sandhill crane shortly after I left the parking lot. It was airborne a couple hundred yards away, crossing a huge field. I got a brief look at that huge bird before it disappeared.
At the beginning of a short walk around Stephen Young Marsh, I stopped by the viewing platform to see if there were any other birds around. I spotted a few Canada geese and a pair of ducks at the other end of the marsh. That is all. But I had a small bottle in my pocket to collect a sample of water from the marsh for later viewing. Good thing I did. I would find algae, protozoa and tiny crustaceans in the sample I took – the first stirring of microscopic life I’ve seen this year.
Then my walk began in earnest. I tramped through patches of mud and meltwater before reaching a boardwalk then slightly higher ground. With temps shooting into the 60s last week, I wasn’t surprised to find the trail completely free of snow and ice. With the sun beating down through the cloudless sky, I was quite comfortable walking despite temps no higher than 40 degrees. A woodpecker knocked, robins foraged on the forest floor, and red-winged blackbirds chattered in the treetops. Otherwise the woods were quiet and still.
I say I went for a walk, but it was really more of a meander. I was dressed for hiking yet moving ridiculously slow. I stopped repeatedly to look around. I scanned vernal pools for more signs of life. No peepers yet – too early for that. But I found clusters of their eggs in the shallow water. It won’t be long before their chorus begins.
I returned home with a touch of spring fever. Two days later, I’m still feeling that dreamy euphoria despite the winter storm now brewing at daybreak. Most people see snow and think winter, but I shrug it off this time of year just as the land does. It won’t stick. And a good run of 50/60 degree days is just around the corner, not to mention wildflowers awakening from their long slumber. This is my favorite time of year, chock full of promise.
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