I should post something everyday

Rather, I will post something everyday. Even if it's just coming to this site and typing in the sentence "I will post something everyday."

In the meantime, I happy to report that it's 6:20 in the a.m. and the light outside is not dark, but in stages of gray before the sunrise. I can even see a pinkish cast.
Before long February will be gone and March will wonder where all it's wind and cold went, because February seems to have stolen it this week. Every year it seems that March relaxes it's "In like a lion, out like a lamb" status and February picks up the gauntlet.
But as soon as March gets here those with Maple trees start getting sap tapping happy. There is some trepidation about what this year's harvest will be. It has been an unseasonably warm winter with relatively little snow to put the trees to sleep. I believe that makes for low sap flow, and perhaps even bitter sap flow. I'll have to look into that. But as maple syrup is, perhaps, one of the last viable agricultural crops for the New England area it is difficult to see this commodity go by the way side. Places to go berry picking seem to dwindle by the year, according to some friends. Apples don't bring in the money they used to, according to the Mapadot Farm owner who I spoke with a few years ago. "Decorative" crops bring in more money, he said. When the fall rolls around people are willing to dish out big bucks for the dried out corn stalks and orange glow of pumpkins. Mums, a popular fall flower that comes in a great variety of fallish colors, can be found at every grocery store.
The photo today is of a local man who opens his (and yes I'm serious about this name) sugar shack to visitors on Maple Sugar Day every year. Folks can just walk in and watch the process of boiling town gallons of sap for a few pints and ounces of maple flavored gold. He will discuss the whole science behind the process, walk you around the tank and point out areas of interest. It's a small tour, but one of those truly New England moments that parents drag their children to every year. For a real crowd at sugaring time visit Parker's Maple Barn in Mason. They've got a pretty big operation going, and tasty breakfast fare to boot.
But sugaring is a labor of love for the small producer. People are willing to shell out the big bucks for genuine maple syrup from local trees, but I don't image the one season is enough to sustain a person as their only activity. Environmental changes aren't something that can be reversed quickly, and I wonder if sugaring is something that will become part of the history books for a few years. The odd person who sugars over the next 10-20 years might find that every year they are making syrup just for themselves and a few friends, if at all. Sugaring becomes a New England tale to recalled during the ever warming month of march. Men still gather at the local convenience store and talk over burnt coffee. Used to be the general store with a potbellied stove and the news would come from the next town over, not the New York Times. But sugaring may well go the way of Town Meeting. Card carrying Yankees more willing to stop by the grocery store for their mums and syrups instead of searching out the local sugar shack.
The line where tradition separates from progress is a painful tear sometimes. To want the events of the past doesn't automatically label one as a luddite, but it become difficult to distinguish a preservationist from an old crank.