I stayed alone with my axe and my thoughts. But I never felt alone. All around me, the forest slowly stirred to lifeThe arrival of the coronavirus pandemic exactly coincided with a vital rite of spring in Canada’s eastern provinces: the celebration of known in Quebec as “le temps des sucres,” translated into English as “sugaring off.” My family had gone to Quebec City for a March Break ski trip that got cancelled when François Legault, the premier, shut all the province’s ski hills to slow the spread of the virus. In the Quebec City newspaper, Le Soleil, I read...