Entry 8: Changes

Wednesday, April 12, 2017
Temperature: 61 degrees

I stare into the pale expanse of never ending sky. The sun shines proudly overhead. There's not a cloud in sight.

I walk the trail I usually run, following the river into the heart of the park. It's been three months since my first blog entry and so much has changed. I pass budding trees. Color graces their once dull, brown limbs. As I cross the wooden bridge, I see fish darting and circling in the water's depths. There across the river is the sycamore and pine, locked in their eternal embrace.

This is not the same park I wrote about in January. It's noisy with the calls of birds, and everywhere I look is vibrant with color. I press on, making my way to the man-made lake. In the distance are the tapped maple trees and Sugar Shack. People gather on the lakeshore, fishing poles in hand, hoping for a catch. The quacking of ducks reaches my ears, as I sit at a picnic table. I silently greet them with a smile.

I look at my hand as I put pen to paper. I've changed too. Though not in ways as obvious or exciting as the spring. I've learned to embrace the stillness of quiet reflection. All I've read and written has challenged my mindset, actions, and identity. The world seems bigger now, more diverse and complex than I previously imagined.

I study the deep blue lake that was once white with ice and wonder, who am I in this great world?

Sometimes I wish for the quiet wisdom of the trees or the simple eternity of the rivers, lakes, and oceans. Sometimes I wish for the wildness of a wolf, or the freedom of a finch.

But I am me.

I am no more wise than I am eternal. Just like I am no more wolf than I am finch.

I've spent the past months reading and writing, but its the park that has helped me grow. It's the park that has inspired these thoughts and prompted these lessons. I leave with the knowledge that I am part of this world and it is part of me.

For this, I am grateful. For this, I will return.

Entry 7: The Personalities of Trees

Saturday, April 1, 2017
Temperature: 40 degrees
Skies cloudy.

It's the annual Maple Syrup Festival at Brady's Run Park. Vendors selling every imaginable variation of maple syrup set up shop on the usually vacant green space between the river and lake. Hundreds of people crowd around the stalls and wait in line for the famous pancake breakfast. Country Johnny sings covers of old country western songs to a tent filled with almost no one. A group of Revolutionary and Civil War reenactors show off their costumes and antique guns. Truly, there's something here for everyone.

As I make my way to the Sugar Shack, I pop a maple syrup sucker in my mouth. Sugary sweetness floods my taste buds.

Who needs high fructose corn syrup when you've got this stuff?

The Sugar Shack is smaller than I expected. Most of its interior is filled with a large steel vat, where the maple sugar is boiled into syrup.

Inside, Paul Farkas, a member of the Beaver County Conservation District, greets me. I have a page of questions about the maple syrup process. Paul has years of experience and a wealth of knowledge. I furiously scribble down his answers in my notebook.

Paul explains the maple trees need warm days and cold nights for the sap to develop properly. If the temperatures are too warm or too cold, this can harm the tree's sap, and the tapping process. Because of these conditions, the maple syrup season is rather short and after a couple of weeks, the trees cease to produce the sap used for syrup. "When the maple sugar turns a milky, cloudy color, that's mother nature's way of saying this sap is for the trees now," Paul says. "That stuff stinks something fierce, and that's a fact."

Paul and his crew only tap trees that are at least 9 inches in diameter.  For the health of the tree, it's important not to over tap or to use the same tap hole year after year.  In the close quarters of the Sugar Shack, Paul pauses for a moment. His weathered face crinkles into a smile. "I used to stomp around these woods in two feet of snow to make sure the taps were working and the sap was flowing." The park's tap system utilizes gravity for the sugar to drain out of the tree and into the collecting basins. Once enough sap is gathered, it's taken to the Sugar Shack and is boiled to become denser and sweeter. The result is the maple syrup many people know and love.

While the process of transforming maple sugar to maple syrup isn't difficult, it takes 26 gallons of maple sugar to make just 1 gallon of maple syrup. Commercial growers, use a mechanism that Paul describes as a "vacuum" that sucks the sap directly from the trees. It's a quicker, more effective way to gather maple sugar. However, it's clear that Paul doesn't think too highly of this approach and views the maple trees as more than just containers to be emptied. "Every tree has a unique personality. The amount of sap and the rate of sap flow is different for each tree." Paul seems to view the maple sugar as a gift from the trees.

I purchase a quart of Brady's Run maple syrup, eager to appreciate this gift myself.