In the paraphrased, yet immortal, words of Julie Andrews, “…Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes/Silver-white winters that melt into springs./These are a few of my favorite things…”

While I may not be skipping across the green grasses of the Alps, I am celebrating the warming of the season from this downright old-fashioned winter we’ve had until now. Nothing gets me moving faster than some warmer days, other than perhaps a new season of harvest. Typically, one wouldn’t associate late winter/early spring with harvest, but for those with a sweet tooth, it’s a coveted season to get out and collect a golden commodity. Sap.

It’s been a couple years since my family did any maple tapping; the last time we made around five gallons, only for me to ignorantly realize that’s kinda hard to get rid of in a year or even two. So we gave a lot away, ate a hefty portion and we still have more in the pantry, but I got the itch, so now we’re tapping again. That’s because half the fun isn’t just having syrup, it’s going out and setting up buckets and watching as they fill up with precious sap. 

We started out with only half a dozen buckets, which I rigged up with taps I bought on Amazon. Having set these up all too fast and still wanting to have fun with it, we dug into the farm attic and got out the old galvanized maple supplies. A dozen or so more buckets and the itch started to feel sated for the time being. The kids helped with the first half dozen, and every time we went outside, asked if the buckets were full yet.

While we were putting the spiels into the trees, my wife wanted the kids to taste the raw sap and see what they thought. There was a nagging feeling that wanted me to protest, but I didn’t say anything because, honestly, there wasn’t any real reason to deprive them of that experience. However, I will say that I know my children. I knew that a simple taste from a cupped hand would not be the extent of their experience. I also knew my wife had not yet thought ahead to the extremes that my two boys often take things. Do they care about germs? No. Have they any shame or hesitation? Twice no. 

In the span of exactly a second and a half, they went from catching the sap with their hands to putting their mouths on the spiels and sucking on the tree as though it were a maple juice box.

I crossed that one off my mental bingo sheet and watched while my wife scrambled to reassume control of their impulses. Regardless of hygiene, we managed to get our buckets out and the stove put together in the driveway. It wouldn’t be until a week later that we had enough sap collected in the cooler to start cooking, but the thrill of setting up was enough excitement.

Speaking of favorite things, however, I must divulge that I love things in nature that provide harvestable resources in bounty like this. Sure you can plant a garden and watch the miracle of design and biology unfold, but to go out into the woods or field and be able to immediately derive something that you didn’t have to cultivate or initiate holds its own threshold of blessings. What a fascinating world we live in that has food and other resources just bursting out of the ground of their own accord, regardless of our involvement. Sure, we have to learn where to look, but even when we know where, we may still have to engage in a degree of discovery to circumvent the variability of nature. 

The way out here, most of us have a sweet tooth, but my boys… they may just be on a different level entirely. If you drive by and see one of them pulling the leaders out of the bucket to get a drink, just know they’re growing up right as evidenced by my perpetual sighs and head shakes.