Trying to convince myself I’d rather be elsewhere was futile. I’d rather be mowing the lawn. No. I’d rather be at the office. Nope. I’d rather be painting the front porch. Not happening. Duck season ended months ago and little league baseball was underway. But even with rivulets of icy rainwater occasionally breaching a cinched collar and winding down my back, there was absolutely nowhere I’d rather have been than hunting snow geese adjacent to the mighty St. Lawrence River in Quebec.
Read Article: Where the River Narrows