This weekend we enjoyed a return trip to the most amazing, peaceful geocache location we had found to date. A rock outcropping overlooking the blue of the North Channel. The small islands dotting the horizon were sparsely inhabited making the appeal of putting the canoe in the water irresistible. We packed a picnic, fishing rods, dip nets for minnows, and off we went.
Although we found no fish we did find a large amount of freshwater mussel shells along the edge of one of the island. Covered by a few feet of glistening, ice cold, freshwater made it a challenge to use the kids small butterfly nets to retrieve any. My daughter however had been scouring the waterways for such a scene for some time with an art work in mind. So knowing it was one of the last canoe opportunities for this year to gather shells made the few feet of icy water a barrier we couldn't allow to stop us. Not to be daunted we tied the small nets onto the end of our fishing rods and took on the new 'fishing' for the day.
It quickly turned into a competition between myself and my ten year old son. Who could scoop the most in one sweep. It was difficult because of the sun glinting off of the surface and the sand in the bottom was very soft and stirred easily. So we often fought to see though clouds of silt and weeds. I pulled my net up to discover I had skillfully captured 5! My son not to be out done kept at it on the next sweep. We didn't count the mussels that had inhabitants and they were returned to the water. He yanked his net up and started tossing out mussels and I was thinking he wouldn't have any shells remaining. But he did manage to catch the most with 7, job well done I conceded.
We continued back to shore where we were going to picnic on the rocks. The rocks had many names carved into them from people back in the 30's which was interesting. Taking a stroll across the rocks we found a few small pools which mosses growing in them. Among the moss many frogs had made their home. We saw both
amongst the spongy wet mats. I noticed nearby growing blueberry bushes ripe with berries. My son and I started to pick as my daughter happily observed the frogs. 'Mom!' shouted my son as he pointed. A few inches away clinging to a leaf was a small almost white frog! I grew up in the area and we had often found tree frogs that were brownish. This small white frog almost appeared to be albino at first glance. I picked it up tenderly and noticed a black striped running from its eye to its nose. I am pretty sure it was a