Now We Wait

Drill? Check. Drill bit? Check. Snowshoes? Check. Hammer? Check. Buckets? Check. Lids? Check. Spiles? Check. Water? We’ll eat the snow. Strong heart? Fingers crossed. Okay, let’s tap some trees.

Tapping trees to gather maple water, which wlll become maple syrup is a dance with nature. From selecting the trees, to gathering the maple water, to boiling it all down into syrup can be an elegant dance with the love of your life or you standing alone in the corner of the junior high gym swaying off beat to the music. You could say, one has to channel Euell Gibbons to truly feel empowered. I also realize not many people who read this will know who Euell Gibbons is, but let’s just say that I once ate part of a cat tale because of that bastard. Or, was it a pine cone. Anyway, I digress.

You begin to stalk the trees. Looking for the ones that might yield the most maple water. You walk up to your first “victim”, you apologize to it for the hole you’re about to drill into its side and then thank it for it’s cooperation. Or should I say, perceived cooperation. You drill, grab a spile and start tapping it into the tree using your hammer. Each stroke of the hammer lands with a thud. The pitch of the thud changes. You’re in. You hang a bucket. Place the lid and move on to the next tree.

You maneuver through the maple bush like a cheetah who hasn’t had a crunchy corn puff snack in months. Selecting each tree with care. Carving out a path that will make it easy to gather the water when the buckets fill. When you finish. You throw your head back and belt out a maniacal laugh.

You wipe the sweat from your brow. And wait.