Thalia licks the stick from her fingers. “Tyyyyy-mmmm to make mohhhh-r seee-ruhp!”
“Once the strings of curiosity were pulled —” Nia recalls a teaching trail walk at the nature center two decades gone by, “a tradition was born.”
“The process surely takes time and effort…” Cal collects sap in a five-gallon bucket, “… yet the sweet result… is worth every drop.”
A sap run is the sweet good-bye of winter.
It is the fruit of the equal marriage of the sun and frost.
~John Burroughs
A note from LoveLetterist:
There is a sweetness
in watching
the
three-year-old
who
initiated this tradition
now lug
the buckets
as a
strong
young
man.
John Burroughs was practically my neighbor! I am sure he wandered into my home which was once the general store many times. He probably bought his supplies, maybe had the blacksmith behind the store fix something for him or maybe had a meal at the tavern which is where my garage now stands. After the railroad came in “town” was moved down the road and the store became a home.