When the sap runs

Spring is underneath that white layer, and rising to meet the cold air.

Growing up, when the sap was running, it meant a hike to the bush and the sugar shack.

Just up the road from town, and down a muddy lane skirted with crystalized snow, we'd approach with anticipation. It was an adventure checking the buckets on the trees to see how much had been collected, and to smell that faint sweetness of watery sap. If we were lucky, the wood stove would be blazing with fire, thick steam rolling around us, the big vat boiling with liquid thick enough to pour onto a tightly packed ball of snow. The taste was heavenly.

Continuing on past the buckets and maples in the bush, we'd make our way toward the creek, listening intently. We could almost gage how high the water would be based on the sound and we'd carefully watch it start to break away the ice on the rock bed and move swiftly south. On rare occasions we'd gather sticks and wood, make a fire on the rocks, and cook the hot dogs we'd packed for lunch.

My ancestors once owned 32 acres in Ontario, Canada, where this sugar shack still is. The land has changed ownership a few times and then, coincidently, a friend of a friend purchased it about 20 years ago and that sugar shack is looking glorious today. My friend Rob, and Bruce, still tap the trees and are making syrup.

I feel deeply connected to this place even though I'm far from it, and my brother and his family still go there on hikes. Seeing the pictures of this year's syrup brings back fond memories of family, and days gone by. It makes me think of our important connection to land, the beauty nature provides, and the goodness of what it can produce if we take care of it.

Wherever you are, here's hoping you get to taste that sweet syrup this spring!

Did you know it takes 80 gallons of sap to produce just over 2 gallons of syrup?

‘Now & Then’ (image above)
My Dad (left) with his uncle, brother, youngest sister and mother (behind the buckets) in the early 40’s.
At far left (walking away) is my niece’s husband with their son, Dad’s youngest great-grandchild.

the sugar shack as it appears today

first drops in the bucket; Bruce & Rob’s syrup; the sugar shack in the 1930’s.
(current photos courtesy Rob Stevens)