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When we open up the sugar house in the morning, there’s often just the sound of the frozen ground crunching beneath our feet, the singing of a few early morning birds, and perhaps an intermittent drip of sap dropping into an empty sap bucket.
As the day progresses, though, the trees warm up and the sap really begins to flow. The warmer it gets the faster it flows, and by mid-day the trees surrounding our sugar house are a symphony of drops dripping and splashing as the taps flow in earnest.
By Bobbie EmeryWhen we open up the sugar house in the morning, there’s often just the sound of the frozen ground crunching beneath our feet, the singing of a few early morning birds, and perhaps an intermittent drip of sap dropping into an empty sap bucket.
As the day progresses, though, the trees warm up and the sap really begins to flow. The warmer it gets the faster it flows, and by mid-day the trees surrounding our sugar house are a symphony of drops dripping and splashing as the taps flow in earnest.