Eric’s been journaling during our adjustment to these rapidly changing times, so I’ve created a page on The Way to the Clearing for him to post his thoughts. Here is entry number two.
(For Patti’s blog posts, visit the homepage or click here.)
I’m going to boil today, very much a spring-is-definitely-coming endeavor. But, again, it didn’t feel much like spring when I just went over to the red cabin to build a fire. Although the snow has receded, the ground is frozen rock hard. There is ice on the walkway that gives way with a loud crack-crunch when I step on it. That, too, seems a harbinger of spring: The land warmed enough during yesterday’s sunny afternoon to allow some of the pooling water under the ice to percolate away leaving an air bubble underneath the ice that breaks under my weight.
It’s the little signs at this time of year that give us hope spring is coming.
When temperatures are right this time of year, the sap of Acer saccharum averages between 2.0-2.5% sugar, maybe a little higher if a tree is particularly happy. Maple syrup runs 66-68% sugar. It takes approximately 40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup; a quart of syrup for every ten gallons of sap. It’s a slow process. Even on a good day when the barometric pressure is low and water boils faster, albeit minutely so, boiling away thirty-nine gallons of water to make a gallon of syrup takes a long time. As I am want to say, “It takes a lot of beer to make maple syrup.”
I waited until the temperature outside went up to 35°F before retrieving the sap collected over the last two days. I expected there to be a layer of ice on the jugs but, instead, found solid blocks of sap-ice. I brought three of the fullest blocks down to thaw and add to the reservoir (a new Rubbermaid plastic garbage can) from which the sap is drip-drip-dripping—via siphon—into the evaporating pan. I make only 4-6 gallons of syrup a year, so use a single-burner Bayou Classic cook-stand fueled by propane. When we first moved to Vermont, I bought the smallest, wood-fired evaporator made by Lapierre, good for up to 150 taps (I currently have 14). I haven’t yet built a little sugar house to put my little evaporator in, but will one of these days (so I keep telling myself).
The steam coming off the evaporating pan brings great joy, but the day is otherwise gray with snow flurries, and the wind is blowing cold.
The strangest thing yesterday: In the middle of the bright sunny afternoon, a bat was circling the white expanse that is the frozen pond. It was darting to-and-fro as if picking off mosquitoes on a warm summer evening. I have never seen such batty behavior. Maybe it’s rabid, or maybe it just came out of hibernation because it knows: Spring is coming.