THE Tree

Christmas trees are no longer the "real" kind. At least not where I live. Not allowed. Plastic only. Fire restrictions. Putting up The Tree used to be a major operation. First, you asked around where the best ones were to cut down. No one "in the day" was concerned about property lines and tree-chopping regulations. You simply piled into the car, went to some wooded place, parked the vehicle at the roadside and tramped into the woods to find the right tree. You cut it down, dragged it out and took it home. Then, there was the great fuss about getting it up. After last year having your tree fall over fully decorated  because the cheap holder Mom bought at the five and dime, gave out or was too small, the neighbourhood dads got their heads together  and the alpha guy, Mr. Hall, who could build anything, showed them his secret formula for banging up a tree stand that was nailed right to the trunk of the fir or pine - and it couldn't fall over. You couldn't get it off for next year, either. My dad was a lovely fellow but he was just not a carpenter. Our tree, even with Mr. Hall's sage advice, did receive my father's home-made stand, but there was always a sort of lean to it. We tried many tricks to make it look straight. "A little more tinsel on this side" or "maybe if we turn it a bit" or "let's try it in the corner" sufficed. Eventually, the tree that smelled exactly like Christmas ought to smell, was up, the decorations were on and the presents were put under it. I do not recall "watering" the tree which didn't seem to make much sense because sap stops running in the winter. Anyway, it wasn't up all that long. In those days, Christmas did not start in November and go on until mid-January. A few days before the twenty-fifth, in went the tree and after New Year's it went out, sadly, or not, depending upon what kinds of Christmases you remember. The Tree today,  is not a tree but a plastic creation that has no scent. The lights are already wired on the branches and some even come with decorations in place. The thing folds up like an umbrella and the only needles that drop are the ones someone loses as they stitch on the sparkling décor ribbons with the wire edges. The "tree" these days becomes a  feature that has to match things. They are not trees any more, they are "mood setters" or "designer dream decor". Gifts under the tree also have to match and be  gorgeous creations to "go" with the room's current theme for the season. This year it's turquoise. Christmas is not a scent from the tree you found in the woods with your dad. It's not hung with the familiar old decorations that your grandparents treasured year after year. We didn't worry about "theme" in those days. All that, is gone. You can no longer take the tree out into the backyard to burn and dance around it while the fragrant smoke rises and the tinsel you didn't get off, curls up so you know the season is over. Makes me wonder what Christmas memories we make now? What do we hold dear this season to remember for the next? Turquoise?