Winter is drawing to a close. The earth is completing its yearly seasonal thawing cycle and beginning to court the arrival of spring. It is time to harvest sap from the sugar bushes. The maple tree, with its ten species, is native to Canada, as are its First Nations. From coast to coast the First People carry on, since time immemorial, the harvesting of the clear sap that with immense labour becomes sweet syrup.
To witness this event for the first time we drive to Hagersville, the home of the Mississaugas of the New Credit First Nation. The weather offers a taste of spring with temperatures in the low two digits. The sky is a soft blue tempting us to remove the roof of our two-seater car. Although the sun shines in its full splendour, the wind chills the air biting our faces. We opted, therefore, to keep the top down and warmth in the small cabin as we raced along the rolling landscape of the lowlands of Lake Erie. The sense of freedom offered by the open road reinforced our looking forward to meet our friend, the former chief of the Mississaugas. He will lead us through the unique way of making maple syrup in the ancient tradition of his people.
We arrived at the appointed place and saw Bryan in the distance, at the edge of the sugar bush, waving at us. We waved back and as we approached him, we noted that he was standing on the last ribbon of snow, where the shadows of the trees stoically kept a cold grip on the earth. We forewent any physical contact of welcome and stayed within the bounds of distancing. Our smiles were covered by the masks. The chief lead us through a wet and muddy path flanked by tall trees that seemed to reach the sky. Through the bare branches the streaming sun’s rays softened the cold air.
Along the way we spotted various white buckets throughout the sugar bush. Each bucket had a thin hose inserted in the top cover and connected to a metal spout tapped snugly into a hole in the tree trunk. A clear liquid dripped into the bucket. The extraction of the sap is affected by varying temperatures of day and night. We begin to hear the drift of voices and the mellow smell of burning wood. After a short walk we arrive at a partial clearing in the sugar bush. Introductions were made and the children immediately began to share their food with us. We found ourselves witnessing an old custom steeped with great knowledge and respect for nature.
Bryan and his friend Mark pointed to two pots filled with boiling sap hanging from wooden bushcraft tripods. A healthy fire of hewnwood kept the boiling at a steady pace. They explained that the boiling will continue until the water in the sap evaporates, leaving a smooth sugary syrup. Subsequently the pot was placed in the puddle of melted snow to cool it down. Once cooled it is filtered and placed in jars. A litre of pure maple syrup requires 40 litres of sap and an intense labour of love.
We listened attentively to the process and outcomes. Mark spoke of healthful benefits that derive from the maple sap. It can be taken directly during the extraction with purifying effects. The maple sap has high content of minerals, amino acids, vitamins, and is rich in antioxidants.

While we are talking a young mother approached with her one-year-old child. She laid him on the ground, took the thin hose from the bucket and allowed a few drops of the sap to fall on his lips.There was pure pleasure in the child’s face and wonderment in our eyes. Seeing this Mark offered us a cup of boiled sap with a taste of mint. We sipped this unique drink with reverence. It had a transparent earthen colour and perfectly balanced in flavour and sweetness. The brew was followed by pieces of candies made with the syrup.
Within this rustic clearing we sensed the continuation of a custom that is passed on to the children ascertaining the existence of the sugar bush. The hosts showed their innate gentle hearts and abundant generosity. For them Nature is sculpted in this sacred trust: “We are the keepers of this land. She shelters and sustains us long after the flesh fails the spirit, we will care for this land. Our drums will be heard upon the wind, our voices in the rustle of the leaves. My people have a sacred trust for the land, a trust no man may break, a trust that death cannot sever. We were here when you first stepped foot upon this land, and here we will remain long after the last step has disturbed her soil.” A Sacred Trust.
It is time to leave. In our hands we hold a few precious maple ‘goodies.’ We retrace our steps along the soggy path, happy to have been part of a centuries old custom that was shared around the metaphorical hearth. The many hearths in the sugar bushes and elsewhere, tended by the First People, seems to us a good antidote towards the continual degradation of nature. By partaking in these seasonal harvestings, we can all become more respectful and nurturing of this world of ours. Just as important we must become aware of an essential foundation of our society: the First Nations, the Receiving People. Together we form the collective human identity.
We got back in the car and drove in silence, followed by the watchful eyes of the eagle and the warmth of the three flames. The long shadows of the wintry sunset formed beautiful patters on the landscape. The aroma of the ‘goodies’ filled the cabin, suggesting the possibility of preparing a dish that combines something from our Italian roots with the maple syrup of the Mississaugas. This will be the story for the next time…