Natures bounty

In the clearing of Sucrerie de la Montagne shadows dance from the canopy above, new growth salute spring to the valley and I am walking on the pages of a fairy-tale.
Translated in English as Candy of the Mountain, Sucrerie de la Montagne is heaven for the senses. The air is rich with sweet aromas, a blend of natural musk from the forest and unknown flavours puff from a chimney top ahead of me.
Pierre Faucher, a man whose jolly eyes would betray his age if it weren't for the tuffs of cotton wool framing his face, is a proud artisan of traditional Maple production. Eagerly pointing to buckets strapped to the closest standing maple trees Pierre wears red and white, his plaid coat stretching over his shoulders like a patriotic flag taught in the wind – I remind myself that I am visiting a Canadian maple farm after all.
Producing a spigot from his pocket, Pierre knocks it against the bark, pointing at the trunk to explain the progression from tree to bucket. Wooden cabins dot the fence line of century old maple trees, a wood-fired evaporator used to boil and bubble sap into liquid gold sits neatly inside one. In another, bottles with Pierre’s face line the walls – a treasure trove of Maple souvenirs.
Walking back to the largest cabin, following the fragrance roasting inside the kitchen, a shadow wanders out of the flower bed.
A howling duet pierces the forest as Pierre greets LoupLoup. Pronounced Lulu, she is the biggest husky I’ve ever seen, her coat grey and brittle with age but she is charming. With the approval from both Pierre and nudge by LoupLoup my fingers are scratching her ears without a second’s hesitation. Her strength surprising me as she leans her body into mine, I am spellbound, ecstatic with my new friend.
When the warm, buttery aroma has finally smothered my nose I step back to allow another visitor pose with Pierre and LoupLoup. The refusal of his wife to join them startles me. She doesn’t want to get too close to the wolf her husband explains in French-English. My stomach, which was grumbling from the scent of fresh baked bread, flips as I realize I’ve just touched a wolf. My eyes resemble the pancakes which are being cooked inside and I cautiously retreat into the warm, candlelit cabin. A feast of maple bacon, sugared ham, egg soufflé and sugar pie, oh my! distract me momentarily and I hope LoupLoup isn’t prone to maple infused girl.