The window of tree tapping for Maple sap is looking slim this year, but right now we are in the heart of it. With days above freezing and nights below, Maple trees most famously fill with a sugary sweet liquid that rises from the roots to the branches in an effort to reawaken their cells after winter dormancy. On the cold nights, the liquid freezes as it rises and then runs back down the following day in the sun’s warming thaw. It does this again and again until the days and nights are evenly warm and the trees ultimately bloom.
Humans across cultures around the world in northern climates have taken advantage of this unique biological process for centuries, using various methods of sap capturing to collect this amazing liquid, which is filled with sugar and rich with nutrients and long revered as a late winter tonic. In old Europe, sap trees were once referred to as the “poor man’s cow” — a reliable source of nutrition during the most fallow time of the year, available to everyone.
It’s not only Maples that produce sap in this way, though here in America they are our most well-known, but you can also tap Birches, Walnuts, Hickories, even the Sycamore, each with its own unique timeline for when their sap will flush. In fact, many people’s late winter lives still center around the monotonous but rewarding daily tasks of sap gathering and boiling to make the dark amber syrup we all know and love.
Here in the northeast, the Maple syruping adage is to tap your trees on Valentine’s day, which might possibly be the most romantic date I could think of. The modern extraction tools are small metal spiles you can hang a bucket onto or, for larger operations, webs of sky blue tubing that require less human effort and run the sap down directly into collection containers and sugar houses where the sap is then gradually boiled down. This is, of course, the human way, but other critters also enjoy the delicious and nutrient dense wonders of the sap trees.
In my own yard, I watch the red squirrels frequent the sap taps most often. Notorious for gnawing through sap tubing of big maple operations, these persistent squirrels will also tap the trees themselves, yanking off bits of bark to create a wound where they can return and return to lap up the oozing sweetness on their own. Many winter birds do the same, drinking from breaks in the tree bark or sipping from the broken ends of branches. I’ve seen Chickadees sucking at sap-cicles–frozen sap icicles that dangle down after a bitterly cold night during sap season, woodpeckers of all makes and sizes, Nuthatches too, and I’ve read that Ruby-throated hummingbirds follow the sap season as they migrate north, relying on this sweet liquid in lieu of floral nectar.
Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers — one of my favourite bird species — are probably the most well-known sap tapper in our woods, hence the name. These specialized woodpeckers drill “sap wells” in horizontal rows across maples and other sap-producing trees, which then continuously fill with sap that they and other creatures can return to regularly. Moths and other insects will get caught in the sap wells (and our own buckets), providing even more nutrition for the hungry visitors, and many biologists consider these birds a keystone species during this barren time of year when most animals have very little to eat.
Find a sapsucker in your woods and you can be assured that many of your favourite birds are safe and well-fed, not to mention the thousands of insects who feed upon this sap too: fireflies, beetles, noctuid moths, leafhoppers, caddisflies, ants, and even early arising butterflies like the mourning cloak.
My personal favourite thing to do this time of year is to sip the sap straight from the tree, ice cold in the afternoon while the sun goes down and the tree tops glow pink and gold. It reminds me of how connected we all are, a web of life, everyone drinking from the same sap tree.
Hannah Schiller is a local herbalist, ecologist, and environmental educator. She lives in Pine Plains with her partner and two children and is a member of the Pine Plains Conservation Advisory Council. You can read more of her nature writing on her Substack In the leaves.