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Here in the Northeast there is only one crop that is ready for harvest while the snow lies heavy on the ground and a thinning layer of ice still coats the pond. You can tell that spring is coming to New England when the taps are being hammered into the sugar maples and each tree is adorned with a covered bucket that collects the raw material that will soon become the finest ambrosia you've ever tasted. As the days grow warmer and the nights stay cold the sap starts to run and that means it is sugaring time, a fleeting few weeks that bring us some of the finest days of the year.

Sugaring is hard work and early morning will find me clearing the path through what's left of the snow so I can get to all our taps. I'll collect the brimming buckets and add them to the main barrel and soon the fire will be crackling beneath the huge cast iron kettle hanging heavily from its three-legged stand.

The maples reaching for the sunlight gladly offer us a portion of their sticky nectar as thanks for our protection against the woodpile. This gift from the trees will become nature's own pure tonic; springtime drizzled onto real snow cones with a sweetness that bursts upon the tongue. We'll stir the kettle all day long; tasty vapors filling the cool air, our heads spinning with almost forgotten memories of sugaring with Grandma and Grandpa, and other magical moments now long past.

We'll call all our friends and let them know that the sap is running strong, and invite them over on this perfect chilly, blue-sky spring day. Rory Allen and the Colby twins will bring their guitars and together we'll laugh and sing while the kettle rises to a boil. We'll spread a pot luck lunch on the old plank picnic table set out back in the pebbly snow. We'll have some wine and keep an eye on the kettle as clouds of scented steam swirl up and bathe us in the fragrance of life spent outdoors.

Muddy footprints will track from the yard to our back door as some folks head inside to warm the red from their cheeks. Those who stay and brave the chill will crowd around the fire as the steaming amber simmers away to almost nothing, for this is when we capture the essence of the flavors. Our faces will glow, light hearted as children as we share these special moments with friends who embrace the simple joys of life. Perhaps one cold night next winter we'll think back and remember the dreamy looks of those who just had their first taste of spring in the snow by the fire.

Won't you come with me now and stir the pot? Let's taste the spring together.

Learn more about this author, Don Haslett.
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