When daytime temperatures rise above freezing, it’s time to tap the maples. The sap rises, murmuring, We can begin again. That’s the promise of spring. Knowing the endlessness of loss, she asks the trees each year, But how many springs are left to me? This is how Aprils get squandered.
N. West Moss is the author of the memoir Flesh & Blood (Algonquin 2021) as well as the short story collection The Subway Stops at Bryant Park. Her middle grade novel, Birdy, is forthcoming from Little, Brown. She can be found on Twitter at @scoutandhuck and on Instagram at @NWestMoss.
Ring,spring,summertime fling.
This resident of Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom (8 miles from Canada & world-renowned for its Maple Syrup) thoroughly enjoyed this read. Thanks.
Vermont is in the house! :)
It reminded me of Caban à sucre in Quebec years back where I saw the dripping and rising of the maple syrup.