Vernon's Little River Wanasquatok

Principal Streams (Vernon, VT) : "Broad Brook, Upper and lower Salmon Brook, Island Meadow Brook and Belding's Brook are the principal streams and all are small." - The Towns of Windham County, Volume 5

"The Squakheags lay to the north of the lands held by the Pacomptocks, and took in both sides of the Connecticut river. Its north bound was, "The little river called Wanasquatok" (Broad brook) which empties into the Connecticut near the north line of the town of Vernon VT...The name of a place was always descriptive of the leading feature or production, or use, or tradition of the location -History of  Northfield The River Indians pp 29-31

"We are now aware that evidence of Abanaki presence has been found all over this area, which is known to the Indigenous people as Wantastegok" - Native American Past in Brattleboro

"1761 They (Guilford settlers) came into town by the way of Broad Brook. Beginning at the mouth of that stream on the Connecticut river in Vernon and passing up on its banks, they found their way into Guilford."- History of Eastern Vermont pp 111

"...Broad Brook and tributaries each contain's trout...suckers, dace and shiners."- Fish Commissioners of the State of Vermont June 30, 1892


Some days  when driving home to Vernon after visiting Brattleboro, instead of turning left at the lights towards the high school I continue past Exit One into Guilford with a particular route in mind. It seems difficult to maintain the sluggish pace of 35 miles an hour through the town center - Algiers but only because I am eager to slow down even more on Broad Brook road. Broad Brook road is a winding narrow dirt road just left  after the bridge. It  passes under Interstate 91 and connects Route 5 on the Guilford side to 142 on the Vernon side. "This road, although the only one by which the town could be reached, was impassable with teams..." -History of Eastern Vermont pp 111

I always power down my windows on the road so that I can hear the Broad Brook which is noisy and refreshing after being in town doing necessary things that aren't necessarily enjoyable. I don't really know why I never start on the Vernon side like the Guilford settlers had;  but I suppose it's because the day is ahead of me when going into Brattleboro and 142 is a fast 40 mph to Cotton Mill Hill. On my way home now, I creep along rubber necking for a spot to pull off and breath. Many of the shallow pull offs are posted or simply have large rocks placed in the way. There is a larger pull off closer towards Guilford after the interstate underpass and before the bridge. This is near where Fort Dummer State Park ends; although I'm not sure how to access the park from here. This is where the Broad Brook Falls are and the spot I asked Wayne to pull off today. From the falls only about one mile of the Broad Brook remains on its destination to the Quinetucket - the Long River (Connecticut River), so if you watch the water tumble through, you can sit there long enough for those same droplets to reach the river. - Norma Manning

Wayne at Broad Brook in Vernon VT

Rats Don't Have Racing Stripes

Those are fast shoes!" I used to tell our children this when they were small and didn't like change. I would have them run around like crazy until they agreed by saying something like "yeah really fast!" While they mostly outgrew all of those little white lies that mother used to make, "fast shoes" I think will always stay with them.  It's funny how these things travel across the curriculum of life and pop up in the most unusual places. Perhaps in their young minds they wanted to please mom and apparently mom for some odd reason valued fast.

A number of summers ago I installed a rather tiny pond in the planter outside of my living room windows. I was very pleased with my clever self and could hardly wait to see all of the  beautiful visitors that I would attract to it. Confirming my smart installation, my first customers were birds, chipmunks and squirrels. I purchased several inexpensive feeder fish to help keep the insects in check but for some reason they either vanished or leapt to their deaths. Ever the optimist, I rested my head on that while it seemed that I had an uninvited predator to the pond, perhaps it was a beautiful Great Blue Heron! The mystery continued for a couple more trips to the pet store and with not a heron in sight, I decided that it must be our endearing  neighborhood cat.

"Is that Figaro that I see outside of your house?" my neighbor asked one afternoon. Now rats aren't stupid animals, they recognize a welcome mat when they see one and that tiny pond was enough to invite Figaro and his very large extended family to my front yard. So mortified was I that Figaro was doing the backstroke in my pond that I repeatedly denied knowledge of his existence to my neighbor and swore my children to secrecy. 2,368 species and 1,759 subspecies of rodents in the world and I had to attract rats the size of morbidly obese hairless squirrels. I won't go into all of the details; but the Have a Heart traps couldn't contain them, I altered how I composted, we ended up tearing  down a big shed that came with the house when we bought it and I considered setting fire to the place.

Ginny is going on nine years old. For as long as we have had our little terrier mix she has been obsessed with the chipmunks that scurry along the planter with only a pane of glass between them. We call pulling back the curtains, "turning on Ginny's TV." Ginny intensely waits for a chipmunk's arrival and then the chase is on. Because I have lost so many plants in this way, we have to keep our plant table pulled back from the window which creates her speedway.  Chipmunks are clever mischievous little thieves with racing stripes and Ginny instinctively knows it. I have never successfully grown a sunflower for they are forever cutting them down for no other apparent purpose than for the sport of it. They scold anyone and everything with a sharp chirp and dig holes in the most inconvenient places -yet I would never dream of sending them packing like I did Figaro. If it weren't for our resident red fox family, Toby our new neighborhood cat and raptors, I am positive that I would be over run by Chip and Dales!

Now I know that this piece is getting long but it wouldn't be complete without informing you of the fact that those chipmunks given enough time and exposure to Ginny's obsession seem to make a game of teasing her. Once chase is given, those darn little rodents run to the end of the window, turn around and run back along the same path. This causes Ginny to zip back and forth until the varmint disappears down a hole or over the edge of the planter. I know what you are thinking and no I don't believe that I have lost my wits and this is how I know. One day while watching Ginny watch a frozen family of chipmunks, I witnessed the adult of the three go up to the glass and look at Ginny directly in the eye. Though Ginny carried on barking and scratching at the glass that chipmunk held fast then went back to it's youngsters and back to the window again. This was repeated until eventually those youngsters tried it too. Yesterday I heard a clicking at the window, I looked down to see that chipmunk's great great great grandchild scratching at the glass with its tiny paws. What could I do? I called to Ginny letting her know that her favorite program was on. - Norma Manning

Ginny waiting to race

Blue Mustard Alert by John Anderson

This past spring a Dummerston Conservation member found Blue Mustard, a plant with a very disturbing invasive potential, growing in a Dummerston cornfield.  This species is native to Southeast Europe - Bulgaria, Yugoslavia etc.  It is also common and quite invasive in southwestern United States.  It has never before been found in Vermont. Perhaps not even in New England!

The Scientific name for this species is Chorispora tenella. It starts to flower in early may (at the same time that garlic mustard starts flowering.)

Almost 1500 stems were pulled in an attempt to eradicate this invader.  The status of this species in Vermont is now uncertain. Next spring a follow-up search is planned.  But as Blue Mustard found it's way to Dummerston it is still a threat. The possibility that this mustard may have arrived here as a contaminant in seed corn makes alertness especially important.  Vermont doesn't need yet another alien invasive. - John Anderson

Definitely Not a Garter Snake

This evening while walking my dogs on Pond road I came across a hefty snake that had recently been struck by a car. The snake appeared to be mortally wounded at first look but then it coiled when the dogs got too close. Not recognizing what kind of snake it was, I stood there not wanting to see the animal suffer but also not wanting to get close enough to move it.

Growing up with three brothers, I had handled my share of snakes without much discomfort. As an adult it was in Florida and South Carolina that I learned to be wary of  snakes and once had such a close call at Cypress Swamp that occasionally it still causes me to pause even when seeing  a common Garter snake. We were walking around the swamp when I noticed something moving in the water. I took a step off the path only to be frozen with fear when Wayne shouted, "Don't move!" At that moment I think that I would have rather seen a gator than that snake poised to strike just inches from my foot. After what seemed to be an eternity, the snake simply went on its way.

A motorist slowed down to see what I was doing in the road. She got out of her car to take a look at the unusual snake, expressed regret at not being able to help with the situation but did take a few pictures. Shortly after I flagged down a friend who was looking like she needed an adventure just about then and so I invited her over by yelling, "There's an injured animal here!" Okay so I didn't exactly tell her that it was a snake but I was wanting her help and I thought that yelling snake might send her back up her driveway.  Now I'm not a total jerk so when she was fully committed to heading my way, I confessed that it was a snake.

You have to know someone pretty well to ask them to rescue an injured snake with nothing more than their bare hands and ingenuity and Cheryl seeing the poor thing went straight to work at finding a solution. As I mentioned before this was a hefty snake and not one you just reach out and grab by the tail or behind the head. "It's probably going to die, I just don't want it to suffer more than it has to." Cheryl and I bantered back and forth while sizing up the situation. The snake had a dull red background with a cloud shaped pattern. The clouds were bordered with a thin line of white and a black middle. "I don't know what kind it is, do you think it's a Milk Snake?" (It was not)

It was much more feisty than it should have been given the state it was in, so Cheryl picked up a couple of old corn stalk pieces out of the field and gently attempted to coax the snake towards the field. "It has a viper shaped head." I observed and it coiled to striking position. Cheryl gave it another gentle tap and WHACK it struck at her causing me to scream like a little kid in a haunted house who just had a monster jump out of a dark corner.  Cheryl on the other hand with cat like reflexes calmly spoke to the snake explaining to it that she only wanted it to move out of the road. Eventually the snake complied, stretched out and slithered off the road and into the field. Cheryl then went back to move the expelled innards of the snake off the road too. I don't know how many brothers Cheryl grew up with but I bet it was more than twelve. - Norma Manning

Northern Red Oak with Male flowers

Here is a photograph of  Northern Red Oak leaves in May with Catkins (male flowers). When meandering around Vernon you most certainly are going to see oak trees as they are abundant here. I found this oak tree by Newton road. But how did I know that I was taking a picture of  Northern Red Oak leaves?

Identifying oaks by their leaves is at first like a yes or no elimination test. Because oaks are sorted into two groups the white and the red or black oaks; knowing that oaks either have rounded leaf lobes without bristles or sharp lobes with bristles will eliminate an entire group of oaks.

Our white oaks include: White, Swamp, Chinkapin, Burr, and English.  These oaks have rounded leaf lobes (the part of the leaf that comes out from the mid-vein) and no bristle on the end of the lobes.

Our red or black oaks include: Northern Red, Black, Scarlet, Shingle and the Pin. Red or black oaks have (with the exception of Shingle Oak) sharp lobes, and all have leaf bristles. If it does not have lobes but does have bristles at the end of the leaf it might be a Shingle Oak. Ours however has deep lobes and so is not a Shingle Oak.

Okay, so the oak in question  falls in the red or black oak group because its leaf lobes are sharp with bristles.

The next task is to fold the leaf over along the mid-vein. From side to side is the leaf equal? Looking at the photograph below, notice that if folded, our leaf would not be equal. Pin Oaks folded in half are equal (you may want to try this with  a few different leaves.) This is not a Pin Oak.

Next turn the leaf over. Look at the base of the leaf along the mid-vein. Is it fuzzy along the mid-vein? No need to guess here as the fuzziness is very noticeable. Our leaf is not fuzzy and so it is not Black Oak.

Could this be a Scarlet Oak? Scarlet Oak leaves have a distinctive "C" shaped or open sinus (between the lobes dipping towards the mid-vein.)  Our leaf is not a Scarlet Oak.

So it seems that by the process of elimination, our oak is a Northern Red Oak. Its color is a dull green on both top and bottom and it has between seven and eleven bristle tipped lobes. Another way to confirm your decision is to look around the base of the tree for an acorn cap which will persist for about a year. The Northern Red Oak's acorn cap is shallow, covering roughly one fourth of the acorn. Also when looking upwards at a mature Northern Red Oak tree's bark there are flattened lighter colored "ski trails." -Norma Manning

Mid May at the Town Forest

I decided to take one last trip to the town forest before the flying teeth commenced their annual frenzied feast.  With last nights storm and temperatures finally rising to the short wearing range, I'd say we got there just in time. There is still plenty of mud up there and it looks to be a good year for bugs and the things that eat them. Speaking of that, I am still batting zero when it comes to spying those paparazzi avoidant vernal pool creatures. It seems I'm going to have to go back in with a quality bug spray and a head net.

I just want to mention that while walking about I did recognize two invasive species  Buckthorn and Barberry. As painful as this seems, it is important for the health of Vernon's ponds, swamps, fields and forests that all invasive species on your property be removed. I'm a bit of a hypocrite here as the previous owners of our place had planted Barberry, Honeysuckle, Burning Bush, Norway Maple, crazy aggressive ground covers and many flowers. Though I have removed a lot, I still haven't completed the job. I'm not talking about all ornamental (non native) plants here, only those that willingly and profusely propagate beyond your chosen planting site. Wind, water, birds and mammals are all common seed dispersers, so it's really difficult to predict the impact near and far of plants in your yard. One trick that I have learned is that for every hole I create digging out an invasive species, I fill it back in with a beneficial plant such as high bush blueberry.

Let's go on a picture walk with the expectation that readers will fill in the captions where I am unable to and even venture to correct me where I got it wrong. I'm pretty easy going when it comes to being reeducated on these things so please do not hesitate. -Norma Manning

Ostrich Fern

Cinnamon Fern with swamp in background

Lower Black Gum Swamp

Mountain Laurel 

Beech

Sweet Fern

Dogwood?

Hobble Bush

Bluets and wild strawberry?

Serviceberry flower with Laurel in the background

Violet

Blueberry and Canada Mayflower

Haskins overlook

Vernon in the 802

When Wayne and I moved to the Low Country I decided that I should continue my education at the College of Charleston. Now anyone who has ever attempted to transfer credits from one institution to another soon discovers that each has their own requirements and often credits from one school does not satisfy those of another. For me, it was my history credits that lacked the required pedigree.  I took U.S history at Keene and then UVM required World. Imagine my dismay when I was informed that the history of Charleston would be required. To be very clear, even if I had the history of S.C. under my belt, it wouldn't have satisfied their requirement and I wasn't even a history major. 

As we all have to learn at some point, sometimes you just gotta jump through hoops. Here's the irony however, I've never regretted meeting that history requirement as it has over time gone a long way to helping me to understand and appreciate the people there.  Now there is always a flipside to every album, and I would be remiss if I didn't mention that I've lived in nine states including Vermont where I have lived in four different municipalities. During that span, I have encountered this level of stringent hometown importance exactly twice. I'm not talking about whether or not someone is a sixth generation native Vermonter here, I'm talking about whether or not someone is a multi generational "Vernon" Vermonter.

My brother likes to joke(?) that if you haven't lived in Vermont for 15 years he won't talk to you. It's nice to be on speaking terms with my brother again. Much to his anguish, Wayne who was born and raised in BF lost his VT drivers license when we moved to Hinsdale after the Navy. When our place grew too small I began searching for a new place. I took a liking to Northfield and looked at a few places with a realtor. When I had finally decided on a piece of land Wayne informed me that he would never move to MA.  With that, we settled in Vernon and slowly began to notice that I weren't from around here.

I used to tell Wayne that there was an iron curtain down the center of the CT River and as it turns out I wasn't really that far off in that judgment; however the curtain actually is located at the low water mark on the western bank of the river.  There is quite an involved history as to how in 1624 King James the sixth established that border and how for hundreds of years that boundary was pushed around and wouldn't be definitively settled until 1934 with Bellows Falls, VT being the center of that decision. As with many good stories in history, the border decision regarding the International Paper Company began with a tax dispute.

So there you have it, in 1779 what was Hinsdale, VT and now Vernon, VT was claimed by four states; NY, MA, NH and VT. I encourage you to read the provided links for in them you will find how three miles (1/2 mile in width) of Fall Town Township MA came to be Vernon's. History can be a dangerous thing and not for all of the obvious cliche's.

To accuse a Vermonter of being a flatlander / being from away is to rile up hundreds of years of fight. Never assume that because you pay property taxes in VT that you are a Vermonter -yet. When a Vermonter tells you he won't live in MA, take him at his word even if the history says otherwise; and when an old Vernon family member casually comments that the Broad Brook is at the border of Vernon take their word for it but check your history book to see why it is so.   I'd like to talk more about all of this in person with you, but I'm only 16 years in this town and I can't risk it. - Norma Manning

 The west bank of the CT river and the Vernon Dam 

The Fox, the Farmer and the Hunter

Come fair season, I get to indulge in a strange fascination that I have with watching cattle judging.  Wayne doesn't share this interest that I picked up while taking classes in agriculture in the 80's; but if he tours the barns and watches a few showings while drinking a cola, he doesn't have to feel guilty checking out tractors or campers later on. I promise you,  I am going somewhere with this though we might circle around the proverbial barn a few times getting there.

The farmer's business is death. I didn't come up with that thought, I read it once in a Hoard's Dairyman that my friend slipped into my tote at work. Farmers raise crops to harvest and animals are the same, only they are called livestock. I had a conversation with my daughter Abby about how I was having difficulty watching the COVID-19 stories where they showed exotic animal meat markets in China. I was having particular difficulty with dogs in cages offered for sale. Abby who eats nothing with a face remarked, "you eat lamb don't you? What's the difference?" Abby is never one to take it easy on her mother.

I once watched a necropsy on a ewe at a sheep conference in Grafton. The Veterinarian put the sheep down on an outdoor table. With farmers and people like me crowded around as he began his examination while discussing what he was doing, why he was doing it and what he was finding. When he was pulling out the entrails and holding them up I noticed the crowed had thinned substantially. Before the Vet had finished,  I too had moved on to watch the Boarder Collies.  It was eighteen years later that I ended the suffering of my first dog at a Vet's office. During the procedure I had to walk away to collect myself while the doctor waited patiently for me to return. She knew that I needed to be there even when at the moment I could not.

This winter the Dummerston Conservation Commission hosted the Vermont state bear biologist. During her presentation she was queried on her feelings over using dogs to hunt bear. It was clear from the framing of the question and their tone, that the person asking was opposed to the practice. The biologist said that she knew hunters who used dogs and that many were good people who cared deeply about conservation.  She explained how hunters partnered with the biologists, using their bear dogs to help track the bears that were being studied. She reiterated that fishing and hunting license revenue also supported conservation.

In our neighborhood we have often been blessed with families of fox in the spring. I say blessed, but whomever owned those Rhode Island Reds I kept finding in my yard might have had a differing opinion. My neighbor who is a hunter developed a particular fondness for the family that denned up in the culvert under his driveway. Last summer we found turkey wings and feet, various parts of domestic birds and even a fawn's leg that was left for the kits to eat. This spring I had been keeping an eye out for their return but they didn't seem to be around. I had wondered if the farmer who owned those chickens had taken matters into their own hands. This morning my neighbor asked me if I had heard two gun shots yesterday. He said that another neighbor had called him about a sick fox in their yard. He said that the fox had lost all the hair on its tail and was encrusted around its face. They called the Warden who told them to put it down. He confessed that he was really upset at seeing the fox so sick and having to end its suffering. Here was this hunter who has many times shared his hunting stories with me, telling me about his grief over the loss of his fox family.  I understood exactly his grief and so when he changed the subject to that Robin who he fed worms to yesterday only to get pooped on, I wasn't at all surprised. - Norma Manning

Pigs on the lamb on Route 5

Canada Geese frozen in the ice at Lily pond with breast meat removed

Fawns leg left in my yard by the fox

Wayne's dinner in Maine

Rhode Island Red left in the road for her kits

Early Morning Geese

Pair of Canada Geese at Hatchery pond - Norma Manning

Invitation To Edit

Dear Vernon Neighbors,

The purpose of this letter is to invite you to edit your gardens. Yes that's right, I'm requesting that as you walk about your property, take an informal survey of the flowers that are growing there and then do some "rewriting" with wildlife in mind. The same could / should be done with shrubs and trees; but lets face it, it's springtime and flowers are on all of our minds right now.

Now I thought that this would be a quick friendly note; but if you search native Vermont flowers or any related question about why they are important,  an overwhelming number of sites and hours of reading are ahead of you -yikes! I don't know about you, but I want to spend my time outdoors enjoying the flowers and not in front of the screen.  So allow me narrow it down a bit for you. Native flowers and plants have over a long period of time, grown accustomed to growing here in Vernon and the wildlife that live here rely on them for food, reproduction and shelter. I know that those non-natives that are sold at..well just about everywhere are pretty sexy; but they really just don't deliver the nutritional punch to support the food web that natives do.

I know what your thinking here because I'm right there with you, all of this sounds expensive and like a lot of hard work.  But here's the thing, native plants since they figured out how to grow here, don't require all of that junk we like to toss at flowers who begin looking peaked because they aren't happy living here on there own. Think of all the money time and energy that you will save by not buying chemical fertilizer and pesticides! Remember when I said that native plants know how to live here in Vernon? Translation: you won't need to spend time and money keeping their feet wet if you set them in the right spot! I know, it's all truly liberating, your weekends have never been so free!

So what exactly is a native plant and how do you find them? Fortunately for us, very smart people who make a living studying these sorts of things and have made an easy to use picture list of Vermont native plants.  (there are a lot of lists out there). The buying part is a little more involved however. Seeds and container plants typically list the basic information of how much sun, shade and room plants require as well as their hardiness zone (we are 5b). Some containers even tout "Northern Grown." Be careful here because those may not the same as being a Vermont native plant. Additionally, organically grown isn't the same as being Vermont Native. So this is what I do, I carry a list of Vermont native plants with me when I go shopping and when I forget my list I ask the garden center representative to direct me to the Vermont natives selection.

So how does one exactly "edit" their yard? This morning I laid down all of my, The Commons and Brattleboro Reformers on top of a patch of grass. I managed to cover an area of around 8x10 feet. I then covered the newspaper with dirt. Finally I sprinkled the native perennial wildflower seeds that good old Wayne bought me for my birthday, on top of the dirt and used the bottom of my hoe to gently tap them in.

Well I'm off to enjoy this beautiful day! (I saw my first honey bee on a Dandelion this morning.)

Sincerely,
Norma A. Manning

Vermont native: Viola Sororia - Common Blue Violet

Penthouse

  

A pair of Mourning Doves have taken the penthouse - Norma Manning