WordSisters

Tag: winter

  • Forty Gallons into One

    Quality sleep generally suffers when serious, worrisome, or sad things press on daily life. And here we are with a horrible cacophony of such news screaming across the media, in grocery store lines, and casual conversations as friends and family look for some tiny assurance that the world, our country, or at least a personal circle could be okay.

    Driving through rural areas in late winter, bags hang from trees ready to tap maple sap. Other trees might also be tapped, but maple trees are the largest producers. Tubing might zig-zag through a larger tree stand instead to gather sap into larger lines and run to collection tanks. For a small syrup maker, the sap will fill bags or pails which will be collected then carried to the sugar house location.

    Forty gallons of sap are needed to make one gallon of maple syrup. The sap is boiled over an open flame until extra fluid is gone, then foam is removed and the syrup filtered. The process is time consuming with possibilities for accidents like burns and back strains. 

    Some syrup seasons snow still stands in the woods. As kids we filled small bowls with snow then bothered adults until syrup was poured over it. We learned how putting the maple candy in your mouth too quickly could painfully burn a tongue and how hot maple syrup splatter hurt on bare flesh. Regardless of age, we walked around the tubing, hot fires or equipment. No running for so many reasons.

    If weather affects trees or harvest happens too late, the sap might be cloudy or bitter wrecking a season. If sap is undercooked or overcooked the syrup will be of lower quality. If deer and bears mess with piping the sap may drain onto the ground instead of filling the collection tank. Many things can reduce production from 20 gallons to a few or nothing.

    The world seems to operate with the similar equations as maple syrup. A whole lot of good raw material or information may be required to produce a small amount of awesome happiness. There are many ways to interfere with delivery of the good and deliver serious, worrisome, or sad results. Maybe when sleep is disrupted, the thought of breakfast including fresh maple syrup can sweeten dreams or at least make the night hours pass easier. Forty gallons of springtime sap into a few tablespoons of delight.

  • Spring Break

     During spring break 2024, we explored Hilton Head and Savanah. Southern sunshine made summer clothes the right choice for a couple of days, otherwise we wore jeans and layers of shirts. Spring break 2025 we hunkered down during a Midwestern winter storm that included freezing rain, a quarter to half inch of ice, snow and wind. 

    A small generator, water stored for at least two days without an electric well pump, battery-powered lights and our propane grill awaited a human emergency. Nothing could be done about ice coating trees. With each wind gust, the clacking of iced tree limbs created a loud, grim sound. As the rain changed into sleet then then heavy snow, the original ice threatened to take down anything delicate. Birch trees bent gracefully. Pine trees looked tortured. One froze to other trees before they all dipped to our driveway to solidify there.

    A large oak fell, its branch canopy crushed a garden area of plants transplanted from my deceased mother-in-law’s home, rose bushes and other lovely perennials. Its heavy fall and bounce over the septic system startled the dog and me. He barked. I wished I could howl.

    Other years forsythia buds are tightly closed on early April branches. Daffodils poke out of the ground and hellebores send out leaves. This year, for a few nights of spring break, we kept emergency kits near our beds and tried not to think about whether we’d be awakened by a tree busting through windows or crashing on the roof. 

    When an actual sunrise brought an end to additional layers, walking remained ill-advised as large twigs or even larger branches jettisoned down around the clock. Birds sang in away, safer places. For days, the sound of falling ice and breaking tree parts filled the outdoors. Two more trees behind our house gave up the struggle. 

    Ten miles away trees remained free of ice, but water covered farm fields. Ducks bobbed about as if everything was normal. On April Fool’s Day, the day for a variety of elections in Wisconsin, we needed to clean up messes many folks only knew because of television coverage. Iced treetops looked like diamond decorated holiday trees, but the sound of the melting and dropping branches didn’t stop from Saturday until later Tuesday. 

    My first spring ice storm was less dangerous than a tornado or wildfire whipped by winds, but a few days of stretched nerves does not make for a vacation. Add the unknowns of trade war tariffs and mid-term elections to 2026 spring break weather surprises and we’ll hold off on making plans.

  • Wet Feet and Warm Heart

    To people living in the lake-effect snow areas, Tuesday night’s seven and three-quarters inches of white stuff that landed in Door County is insignificant. Except the weather professionals predicted a dusting. Opening the door at six in the morning to send an old, thirteen-inch-tall dog with arthritis in his hind quarters required intervention by an owner still in cotton knit pajamas and slippers.

    The flip side of this story is that one of the most intensely awesome sunrises distracted attention from noting the snow depth. Bare tree branches etched black lines against nature’s red, orange, yellow, saffron into beauty that could not be painted, photographed, described. Walking along the back windows of the house behind the small dog, my eyes never slipped below the horizon. 

    Sunrise colors seem shorter as the solstice approaches. By the time boots were located and a snow-covered dog rescued, the sky had turned a warm pink then faded into regular daylight. Winter weather arrived surprising me with the gifts of sunrise, snow in the trees, wet pants and bare feet discovering small cold puddles where the furry one shook.

    In a time of deep emotions ranging from the continued happy surprises of family to dread of the immediate political future, from satisfaction in completing a complex writing project to sadness about a relative’s illness, it is easy to not notice what is simple and beautiful. Life’s gifts and losses cannot be tabulated. A stranger’s smile might change an icky morning into a better day. 

    May your holidays bring calm, happiness, and the beauty of a winter’s day even when your feet are cold or wet.