Vermont Life Stories
Memories of Summer Living in the Green Mountain State
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In order to go fishing you have to have bait. My Dad would use either night crawlers (big worms) or minnows. My Dad wouldn't buy night crawlers unless absolutely necessary. He would go get them. He would go at night when they were up and out of the ground, especially after a rainstorm. He would take his flashlight and shine it on the ground looking for holes. If the worms were not out he would pour a mixture of mustard and water down the hole. Whether rain or mustard solution you had to be ready to reach down quickly and grab these long squiggly, slimy creatures.
The best places to go for night crawlers were churchyards, cemeteries, and cow pastures. We would go to the Danyow farm, the pasture by the old Ball farm, to the Catholic churchyard and/or the high school grounds in Vergennes.
Minnows Dad would get from Mr. Jim McDurfee on Greenbush Road. He was a fishing guide for the State of Vermont but raised minnows too. I liked going with Dad to see this tall, twinkled-eyed black man.
I enjoyed listening to their men's conversation as we walked back to the little creek behind his house. This is where the minnows were kept in large wire mesh boxes.
I got up to go walking one morning in June with another new friend, Elaine. It was about 7:20 a.m. when I heard quacking sounds. I looked out over the deck at the lake and saw a flock of geese were coming in for a landing in our little Pleasant Bay. I thought no more about it and poured my coffee. Then I heard more quacking and what was deep throated grunting. I went out on the deck to see, but I could only hear splashing sounds and the grunting sounds.
It was time for the walk with Elaine. So I called and said "I am leaving now, where shall we meet?" She wanted to postpone the walk for half an hour.
Well, she had given me a gift! I could now go down to our neighbor's deck and look to see what was going on with the geese. I was curious to see what was happening.
In the water were three sets of goslings, at various growth stages and five adult females. They were feeding close to the shore. Two males, in position like 'point guards,' swam to one side. Out farther were five more adult males swimming and occasionally grunting toward the goslings and females. Out about twenty feet or so from them were another seventeen geese waiting and feeding. I found it fascinating to see the whole flock being a part of the feeding of the baby goslings. I thought of community and its purpose. These geese all had their various functions.
About ten minutes or so later an authoritative honk went out and the whole flock began to move.
The goslings and females moved out away from the shore and back toward the waiting geese. The two 'point guards' moved over to where they had been and it was if they were checking to see that all were on the move. Several males (I think) moved in toward the two adult 'point guards.' At first I though maybe these two weren't guards but intruders because the five males moved toward them, grunting and the two came fast toward them with heads down and pointing straight out. Several deep-throated sounds were made between the two groups of two and five adults. They all began moving out to the open bay where the twenty-two goslings and adults, I think females, had gone. The rest of the flock had moved in behind them. The whole flock slowly moved along the shore continuing to feed before they flew away. This whole scenario was an awesome sight. One I had never witnessed and now felt privileged to see.
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About the Book
Margaret Berger Morse, the daughter of a Presbyterian minister, lived in several states over a period of forty years. She says the one place where she and her three sisters enjoyed their parents in a complete, stable, and undisrupted environment was when they vacationed in a rented camp each summer at Long Point on the shores of Lake Champlain in North Ferrisburgh, Vermont.
In Vermont Life Stories Mrs. Morse writes of the wonder and beauty of Vermont and the many fun-filled, joyous adventures experienced during those long ago vacations on Lake Champlain and in the Green Mountains. She shares a variety of new and wonderful activities enjoyed with her three sisters at recent reunions on Lake Champlain. She has shared new tales from the summer seasons experienced with her husband, Whitney, daughters Torrey and Jessica, and families at their own Camp "Lottie." Mrs. Morse’s en emphasis on the local population gives a special flavor to these stories.
The author has given talks and book signings for Vermont Life Stories in Connecticut, Vermont and Massachusetts at several libraries, churches, and organizational meetings of Rotary club. Mrs. Morse was interviewed by newspapers in Connecticut and Vermont.
About the Author
Margaret Berger Morse, the daughter of a Presbyterian minister, lived in several states over a period of forty years. She says the one place where she and her three sisters had the most pleasure with their parents in a complete, stable, and undisrupted environment was when they vacationed each summer in a rented camp on the shores of Lake Champlain in North Ferrisburgh, Vermont.
In 1986 following an eighteen-year career in elementary education, Mrs. Morse changed roles and began a new career working within her church. She retired from that vocation in 1997 and wrote her first book, Choices: A Journey of Faith, the story of her family’s walk with cancer and the eventual healing of their daughter. A revision of that book was published in 2001 entitled Torrey’s Miracle – A Matter of Choice by 1st Books Library.
Mrs. Morse holds a BS Degree in Elementary Education from the University of Hartford, an MS degree from Central Connecticut State University, and an MA in Theological Studies from Hartford Seminary.
She currently resides in Connecticut and Vermont with her husband, where she writes and gives spiritual direction. This author continues to seek and relish the awesome beauty of New England as a hiker/walker, swimmer, and boater on Lake Champlain. Mrs. Morse would like to hear from h er readers cplottie@yahool.com