Maple Syrup
You can get it from the red maple, sure, but there's a lot more to the tree than that.
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March 24 was Maple Syrup Sunday in Maine. As always, the fourth Sunday in March is set aside for this event, and some places are open to the public both Saturday and Sunday. It’s a day when the sugarhouses (maple sugar producers) offer samples and demonstrations, sugarbush tours, and so on. Alas, this year it was pretty wet, and I heard the turnout was low. I have never attended one of these events, but I do enjoy a good dessert involving maple syrup and I include a recipe for that toward the end of this post.
Something else I enjoy is The New York Times Flashback quiz that appears on Saturday mornings. Today one of the questions had to do with climate change and carbon dioxide. To avoid spoiling the fun for you if you haven’t done the quiz yet, I will just say that it seems nuts to me that anyone would hatch crazy schemes like blocking the sun’s light or vacuuming up carbon dioxide. What, as they say, could possibly go wrong. In the same quiz, another question references the resuscitation of the United States’ tree supply chain, and the planting of more trees, in order to reforest areas that have been destroyed by wildfires. This makes more sense, especially if biodiversity is part of the plan. After all, trees provide shade and cooling, and “They may not have lungs like we do, but the soil and trees are breathing in and out all of the time. Trees take in carbon dioxide (CO2), release oxygen by way of photosynthesis, and store carbon in their trunks. And when the leaves land on the ground, soil microbes work to decompose the leaves and other organic matter, which releases carbon dioxide.” I assume that released carbon goes into the soil.
By paraphrasing the popular mantra “no farm no food,” we could also say “no trees, no oxygen.” So why would anyone want to haul out a vacuum cleaner when the trees are happy to do the work for you?
With that double preamble, I want to spotlight a particular tree that grows here at the Hidden Pond—the red or swamp maple, Acer rubrum. There’s a handsome one right in front of the house, standing alone in a low area that’s watered not only by runoff from the rain garden, but also by underground seeps that never go dry. I was out today, looking to see whether it was ready to break into bloom. We had a snowstorm on Thursday, with high winds and a temperature drop, but it looks like the blooms will expand and break open as soon as we get some warmth, and by next weekend they will be lighting up the woods. The pinkish flowers (male) cluster on stalks and scarlet samaras (female) follow soon after.
This one tree that stands alone is not the only red maple around here. There are more along the property lines on both sides, and up in the back field as well. Some of them are old, and some have fallen victim to age and trunk rot. Where that’s happened, there is an abundance of regrowth at the base and when I looked up what to call it, I found this. “For the red maple, the sprouts on the now horizontal tree would be adventitious sprouts, suckers, or epicormic sprouts. All forming from adventitious buds. It may be that the early sprouts are from existing buds, and other buds may form along the trunk after the tree tipped over. The soggy ground would limit the depth of the root system and make the tree prone to windthrow.”
Out for my walk to look for buds, I found myself surrounded by flocks of robins and starlings. They’d been foraging under the maple, and flew up into the trees along the creek, where they continued their discussions about my interrupting their search for food. The red maples play host to deer, moose, early pollinators and a variety of moths. And before I get into any more trouble here—because it seems that this lovely tree can become a problem in the regenerating forest—let me segue to another red deliciousness which is the raspberry. I have a patch that provides me and the birds with berries in July, and I always freeze enough to last me into April.
I promised a recipe. It’s simple as can be. Get a bottle of real maple syrup. I like Grade A Dark Amber from Frontier Maple Sugarworks in Jackman, Maine. Pour a healthy splash in the bottom of a dessert-sized bowl, add a big scoop of your favorite vanilla ice cream, and layer on raspberries or blueberries. Or both. That’s it. Nectar of the gods.
More about events from the Maine Maple Producers Association is here.
Boston University’s publication on trees is the source of the information about CO2 and oxygen.
Cornell Forest’s forum provided the source for what to call red maple regrowth.
Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center in Austin is a rich resource no matter where you live.
A few years ago there was an onslaught of books about trees and their role in the biome. I read most of them, but I find it much more satisfying to go outside and listen to what the trees themselves have to say. This post is more “about” the tree than it is an interview with the tree, which is what I will attempt to do in the future. If you have a favorite you’d like me to interview, leave a note in the comments.
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