Sap buckets and tubing, ready for their season-end bath.

I attended an interesting "Science at Night" lecture at Western Connecticut State University last week on maple sapping: its history, biology and climate change. Our season is over and I've got a mountain of buckets and miles of tubing to rinse and store till next year. But during the lecture I learned some great facts about our maple trees and was disabused of some erroneous ideas.

I always thought the sap was stored in the roots and flowed up into the tree with the advent of cold nights and warm days. Actually, the sugar ---- begun as glucose by photosynthesis last summer and then converted to sucrose ---- was stored as starch in special ray cells that run from the outside of the sapwood towards the center of the tree. Specialized enzymes in the Spring convert it back to sucrose.

Amazingly, scientists don't really know what causes the actual sap flow. They do know that some factors, like an increase of CO₂, create intercellular pressure and osmosis, drawing water into the roots. But exactly why the coming of cold nights and warm days triggers the flow is still a mystery.

For some reason, this sent a little shiver of delight up my spine. The bad news is that climate change is causing the maples to 'move' further north. Not like the Ents in Lord of the Rings, but over several lifetimes they will gradually disappear from our area.

Of more immediate concern here is that climate change is also disturbing the cold night/warm day rhythm. The past two years saw days too cold or nights too mild for sap flow. We missed Goldilocks "just right" temperatures. Nonetheless, our beautiful grandmother trees rewarded our efforts with about 18 gallons of syrup, more than enough to satisfy our sweet tooth.

Recipes: 

• Bluestone Cocktail - add three or four tablespoons of maple syrup to a glass of milk
• Bluestone Cream Soda - add three or four tablespoons of maple syrup to a glass of seltzer. Amazingly like cream soda! 

----  Bill Consiglio, Resident Companion

Our lives, like everyone else's, can easily become crowded with ever-present To Do Lists ---- appointments, meetings, travel, computer work ... Even with our daily practice of prayer, calling us continually back to a place of centered stillness, I often greet Lent with a deep sigh of relief.

During these days of "inward fasting" our lives slow down and we settle in ----   more retreat days and quiet time, simpler meals, curtailed exuberance during worship. At Melrose we are just beginning the cycle of planting, and in both city and country the signs of spring are breaking through the mud and snow.

Each little bud, every hardy little crocus and snowdrop, the early insects and spiders are all gentle reminders that, though the broad picture continues to be wintry (snow is still in our forecast), we are being assured that life will appear once again, and with wild abandon. No deep snow, no treacherous ice, no fierce wind can stop spring from chasing off cold images of death.

Just as no arrogance, no cruelty, no wild misunderstanding was able to rob the Master of his true Life. And so, as the days slowly stretch and the air gently warms, we enjoy the great gift of Lent as we wait, watch, hope ----  and in the end, know.

May these days of stillness deepen the balance, peace and confidence of your life.

----  Catherine Grace, CHS