On being sugared off

Maple Sugaring Time © deCadmus from Flickr

As we move from mid-March to mid-April here in New Hampshire, the wintry nights are mirrored by warm days, and maple syrup season begins.

I do feel sorry for you if you have never stood in a sugar shack and experienced the heat of the roaring wood stove while being enveloped in the warm steam that carries that trademark sweet maple-y scent.  In the short version of this event, the maple trees are tapped with spigots or tubing, and the sap-which runs only at this time of year-is gathered and poured into a large vat back at the shack. It is carefully tended and stirred over a hot fire until everything that is not syrup is boiled and filtered away.

This process is called sugaring off, and the result is an amazing transformation of something that looks pretty ordinary into sweet, translucent, golden shimmering spoonfuls of lip-smacking goodness.

I think there are times we have a lot in common with the sap. Somehow, as we go through life, who we are sometimes gets watered down, and picks up debris, such as fear, anger, resentment, greed, jealousy, and pride. All of this dilutes and negatively flavors not only our nature but also that of our relationships. There comes a point, I imagine, when God takes his measure of us, and determines that it is our time-again-to be sugared off.

He lights the fire, and we feel the heat.

More often than I would like to admit, I think most of us resent the high temperatures and pain of this process, and desire to just continue floundering along on our own not so merry way. However, despite how we may feel, once we are “done”, well, at least for this time, we realize we are better for it. We are sweeter, and more like the person He designed us to be.

We are well served to welcome our season, whenever and how often it occurs, and open our arms to the delicious results of being sugared off.

Welcome Spring!

Crocus © K. Hall

Spring has arrived! Warm sunshine. Green grass. Crocuses. Gentle breezes. Soft earth that yields to the weight of bare feet.

But wait. God is not quite done with winter. He still has some batter in the bottom of his great mixing bowl that he scrapes out and drops down upon the New England landscape. More cold. Snow. Lots of slush. Biting winds. Oh, and here’s some overnight temperatures that freeze the ground again.

My attitude needs some adjusting in regards to the combination these season-ings, as I am just not really enjoying the melding of the two. It’s like I had my heart set on chocolate, and I bit into anchovies. Ewww. 

What does it all actually look like? Well....

We have side roads like this.

 And they change to this.

And downtowns like this. At noon.
When the spring sun is supposed to be shining.

And this poor guy. Standing out in the fresh air, thinking the corner has been turned, really looking forward to contentedly chewing on some of that tender new growth, only to get right in the middle of the seasonal mix-up, wondering to himself what the heck happened...
I would say he is blue at the prospect of missing his spring salad mix...

How are you handling your seasons of change?