On a different note about Saturday’s adventure: I saw several places where maple sap gathering was taking place. The first place I saw: a grove surrounding a pickup truck. The bed of the truck contained a large white plastic container. Another similar container was on the ground and many many yards of plastic piping fed into more piping that eventually emptied into this container.
Thinking this was a not unpleasing and distinctly New Englander solution to gathering this cash crop, I drove a few more miles before spotting another stand of maples, each decked with a roofed, galvenized pail. While less efficient perhaps in gathering the sap, perhaps it was targetted at the even more important tourist dollar.
Regardless of technique, my impression that the tree tips were reddening while I watched, waiting to burst out in blossoms, was buoyed by the fact that if it’s maple sugaring time in the peaks and vales of New England, can Spring really be far off?
