our reason to sugar

I dreamt last night that it was autumn and the leaves were just a memory on the trees.  Golden, orange, and crunchy brown all around me.  I was absolutely devastated and distraught.  I had missed summer entirely.  My eyes felt like two bee stings.  My heart beat faster than a falcon.  I was completely panicked.  I woke up with a start and looked out the window to see snow that had stuck.  It felt only slightly relieving.

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Lee and I decided people around here like to boil sap because its the only reasonable thing to do outside in cold, wet, snowy April.  We are here in the place where you can call a dreary long-lasting snowfall a sugaring snow.  Where a cloudy 35 degree day becomes perfect for the running sap.  Where cold nights are welcomed so long as the days creep up above freezing.  Where the sign of red buds on maples is only bitter-sweet, for it marks the end of sugaring season.

 

IMG_5987I haven’t taken many pictures lately because I am done with this snowy scene.  For now I rely on my seedlings as my morning blessing.  The smell of soil and sap is that’s settled into the walls coaxes me out of bed.  I heard a wood thrush while the snow fell yesterday.  It was confusing and exciting and heartbreaking all at once.

We are still here, just waiting for the sun….

 

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