Tapping into Hope: A Forest’s Gift (Because Sap Happens!)

As the days stretch longer and the sun shines brighter, a collective sigh of relief echoes through the forest. Winter’s chill begins to thaw, and with it, our frozen social connections. I’ve been feeling the weight of the world lately – the uncertainty, chaos, and injustices that seem to be growing by the day. As a nurse at the VA, it’s hard not to feel drained and doubting my ability to make a difference.

Last weekend, I received an invitation from my bestie to join her and her family to tap the sugarbush up at Moon Dogs. I’ll admit, my initial instinct was to find an excuse to stay hidden away in my own little bubble of anxiety. The thought of having an actual conversation with anyone outside my family seemed almost like going to battle. But, a small shift nudged me – a spark of curiosity, hope, and the promise of connection.

As I emerged into the warm spring-like air, the chill of winter’s grip began to loosen. Just days before, Vermont had been plunged into subzero temperatures, and the thought of venturing outside had felt like a daunting task. But now, as the sun shone down on us, its warmth on my skin felt like a balm to my winter-weary soul. The sound of laughter from my friends began to thaw the frost that had been building up inside me. My bestie had even thought to bring me a pair of borrowed snowshoes, knowing mine were still in storage since our move last fall.

~We trudged up the hill, the gentle exertion and rhythmic crunch of the snow quieting my mind and reviving my spirit.

We settled into our tasks, the rhythmic tap-tap-tapping of the trees, the soft murmur of conversation, and the gentle rustle of snow-covered branches blended together in a soothing symphony. We shared laughter, stories, and the simple joy of being together in nature. Tapping these trees, a timeless Vermont tradition, felt like a declaration of hope – a promise that spring’s sweetness is near, and with it, the possibility of renewal and rebirth.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and the gentle rustle of snow-covered branches, I felt the thawing of my own heart. The forest reminded me that even in the quietest of times, there is always the promise of renewal, always the possibility of connection. And as we begin to coax the sap from these ancient giants, I’m reminded that even in the darkest of times, beauty, joy, and healing are always within reach.

With warmth, hope, love and renewal from the forest’s edge.

~Sara K