The plink plink, plink plink of maple sap dripping into
metal buckets every spring sings a sweet song to Barbara Wall's
ears.
"It's just one of those feelings, you know?" Wall asked. "After
a long winter, you've got the warm sun on your face, and you can
hear the sap drip into the buckets. It just makes me want to dance."
Wall is a descendant of the Vieux family and is currently finishing
her Ph.D. in Indigenous studies, while holding a tenure-track position
in the Chanie Wenjack School for Indigenous Studies at Trent University
in Peterborough, Ontario, Canada.
Late winter into early spring during the Maple Sugar Moon is one
of her favorite times of the year. Wall bundles up and heads to
the bush to tap maple trees, collect sap and transform it into ziwagmedé
(syrup) and zisbakwet (maple sugar). The Nishnabé
people use the thirteen moons of the seasonal cycle as guideposts,
yet because of the varied ecosystems and weather conditions across
Nishnabé communities, some may recognize each moon
at a different time. For many, the Zisbakwtoke Gises (Maple
Sugar Moon) begins on February or March's new moon.
"From my teachings, when the sap runs, that's the beginning of
the new cycle of the seasons and the Nishnabé new
year," Wall said during a phone interview with the Hownikan.
Wall grew up in northern New York and has enjoyed maple trees throughout
her life. She often spent her youth in the woods behind her family's
home, letting the maples provide guidance to her adolescent woes.
"I've always had a connection to maple trees and appreciated their
beauty," she said. "As a teenager, I'd go out, and sit, and even
lay on my back on the ground and look up through the maple trees,
and they'd kind of bring me peace."
For the past 10 years, Wall has called Ontario home, and the sugar
bush season has been a mainstay for her every spring.
"You really get to know the trees. And you get to understand their
cycle, their seasonal cycle, and how they look. And not just the
leaves, but how the bark looks. And how the bark looks just before
the sap runs is different from what the bark looks like in the deep
part of winter," Wall said.
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Maple sap drips into
a container before its heated into syrup or maple sugar.
(Photo provided)
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A wood-fired stove helps
transform sap into golden maple sugar. (Photo provided)
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After heating the sap,
stirring and cooling with wood spatulas turns the liquid into
maple sugar crystals. (Photo provided)
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Maple's gifts
According to Wall, as winter comes to a close, maple sap is the
first nutritional gift from the earth, and it is used as a sacred
medicine and cleanser.
"Thinking back to when we really lived off the land rather than
living out of grocery stores, toward the end of the winter, the
supplies might be running low," she said.
During winter, Nishnabé diets were comprised mostly
of meat and mnomen (wild rice) in wild ricing communities.
"So, the sap would clean us out and prepare our bodies to start
eating more plant-based foods," Wall explained.
According to Justin Neely, Citizen Potawatomi Nation Language Department
director, oral traditions surrounding maple vary from community
to community. One in particular, Nanabozho and the Maple Trees,
notes that a long time ago, syrup ran from the trees in the spring,
not sap. The Nishnabé people were not tending to their
duties, rather spending all their time under the maple trees, consuming
the rich, sweet syrup. Seeing this, a powerful spirit Nanabozho
decided to pour water into the trees, which diluted the sap
and required hard work to enjoy its sugary bounty once more.
"The story has varying teachings inside, when you think about it,"
Neely explained. "It's telling you that you have to take care of
your priorities. You can't just fixate on one thing. You have to
do these things when the time arrives."
In some Nishnabé communities, women are the ones who oversee
the sugar bush because of maple sap's connection to water. Care
and protection of water are key responsibilities for Nishnabé
women, yet harvest and processing requires everyone's involvement.
"Having maple sugar camps is very common where everyone kind of
comes together, and always, as a community, we believe in sharing
and helping those that are maybe less fortunate," Neely added.
Before colonization, Nishnabé families returned to
specific sugar bushes annually, and for those who are able, the
traditions continue today.
"And it was also a time when the community would start to come
together, whether it's extended family that's working the sugar
bush or several families getting together," Wall said. "It's a time
of coming back from the isolation of winter to being back in more
of a social environment."
While the moons provide guidance or instruction for when to begin
tapping, Wall also looks for signs from the animals and the maple
trees themselves.
"The crows fly south in the winter ravens are here all winter,
but the crows leave and when they come back, they start to
gather; that's when you start to pay attention to the maple trees,"
Wall said. Squirrels will also break off small branches, and woodpeckers
pierce the trees to ingest the sap.
Wzhek'ge (to tap a tree)
Before tapping a tree, it is an important practice to ask for permission
and place sema (tobacco) down as an offering.
"Some people will do this at every tree they tap," Wall explained
in a video produced at Trent University for the National Centre
for Collaboration in Indigenous Education. "Others will just do
it at the first tree that they tap. But it's a small gesture of
reciprocity of giving thanks to the tree for all that it's
giving to us as Anishinaabeg."
Many use their left hands in making sema offerings, as the
left arm and hand connect directly to the heart. "This is where
you speak the truth your left side and through your heart,"
she said.
Tapping a maple tree in a traditional manner requires using an
axe or another similar tool to make shallow cuts into the bark of
the tree trunk. The initial cuts create a V shape before crafting
a horizontal indentation at or near the bottom of the V.
The last cut is "parallel to the ground, but it's at an angle so
that the sap will run down," Wall said. "The size of the cut isn't
necessarily as important, in my opinion, as the angle."
After making the three cuts, harvesters place a cedar spile; the
spile directs the flowing zisbakwtabo (maple sap), letting
it run down into a folded wigwas (birchbark) container
wigwas nagen. This method usually results in debris like
twigs and leaves entering the sap, but the outcome is sweeter than
using modern techniques.
"It's gentler on the tree because it doesn't go as deep as the
metal spigots," Wall said. "Also, people who work in sugar bushes
have shared with me that the sugar concentration of the sap is higher
closer to the outer bark of the tree than towards the inside of
the tree."
Filtering the sap before placing it in another container more suitable
for travel eliminates contaminants. Wall said harvesting birch bark
to create maple sap-carrying buckets happens during the winter when
the dormant trees' bark becomes thicker.
After filtering the zisbakwtabo (maple sap), some then utilize
a yoke placed around their necks to carry the birch bark buckets
full of maple sap out of the bush.
Modern tapping utilizes a power tool to drill, which creates a
hole to hammer a metal spigot into.
"The tree will heal, but the old style tapping is a more sustainable
type of tapping," Wall said. The shenamesh (maple tree) heals
more quickly from a shallow axe cut than a drilled hole.
Process and storage
After harvesting, boiling the zisbakwtabo (maple sap) evaporates
the water, concentrating the sap. This also helps develop the deep,
rich flavors synonymous with ziwagmedé (maple syrup).
To make syrup, often a wood shkode (fire) is kept going under
pans or pots of raw sap.
"Depending on the season, it takes a ratio of 40 gallons of sap
to make one gallon of syrup, and then it's almost a 1 to 1 ratio
on the syrup to the sugar," Wall said. Typically, sugar is larger
than the volume of syrup.
Making zisbakwet (sugar or maple sugar) requires heating
the syrup in a mkek (pot) until it reaches the thread stage,
which is approximately 223 F to 235 F.
However, Wall prefers to use observation rather than a thermometer.
"It'll go through stages where (the heated syrup) foams up, then
it will quiet down. Then the bubbles will get bigger, and it'll
foam up again," Wall explained. "It requires a lot of patience and
observation."
Cooking the syrup evaporates additional water, and once it reaches
the optimal consistency, Wall pours the molten sugar into a bis'egéwnagen
(sugar trough). Then she begins to move the mixture back and forth
with wooden sugar paddles that help with the cooling process. The
movement and manipulation of the molten sugar alters its physical
form.
As it cools, "it changes from the molten liquid to more of a runny
mud and then a fudgy kind of material," Wall said. "And then you
keep working it, and then you end up granulating the sugar. If you
do it right, you'll end up with granulated sugar that's just as
fine as the white sugar that you buy in a store."
Before the Nishnabé had access to glass, plastic
and other materials to store maple syrup, they primarily created
granulated sugar that they placed in naturally-made containers.
"It was a major trade product between communities, but also, once
the fur trade started, a lot of maple sugar was shipped over to
Europe. It was a source of sugar for the queens and kings in Europe,"
Wall said.
Future of maple
Although colonization has created limited access to maple for Nishnabé
especially the Citizen Potawatomi whose land base in Oklahoma
does not provide suitable growing conditions for sugar maple
it still serves as an essential connection to Nishnabé
culture. Maple sugar is incorporated into dishes for feasts and
is a key component of many ceremonies.
Wall enjoys the ancestral connection that she finds out in the
bush while making syrup and sugar.
"I know there's a sugar rush, but it's almost a reconnection rush
that happens too," she explained.
However, environmental changes are negatively impacting sugar maple
populations across North America. Sap flows best when air temperatures
reach around 40 F during the day and below freezing at night.
"As the climate warms, we might not have that specific range of
temperatures, so maybe the sap will no longer flow in the amounts
needed for production of syrup and sugar," Wall explained.
While access is still available, Wall encourages all Citizen Potawatomi
to try real maple syrup or sugar themselves.
Consuming maple syrup and sugar is "a move forward, but it's also
a move backwards and a reconnecting with ancestors. It's reconnecting
to what our bodies remember," Wall said.
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