Each year, due to the season, the life of a small evergreen tree must give it’s life. From the prophecies of old, something green must die at Christmas time. Who are we to deny the small tree it’s place in the universe? A life must be given.
We drove the family vehicle to local forest (and by “forest”, I mean tree farm) to find the tree that we would kill. We do not kill out of enjoyment, but out of need. We found our victim. The guard dog just behind the fence that did not share our blood thirst and did not want us to take the life of this particular tree, but we carried on over his barks of anger.
The weapon was chosen, and my son – whose name just happens to be Tree – did the job. The sawing was tough, but he did not shy away from his duties. I was very proud of him.
Samantha cried mightily when the tree feel. The horror of it all overcame her. She is still young, and she will learn over time that the circle of life demands that a tree must die at this time of year.
My good wife Jamie then took charge and carried the tree away to it’s rightful place in our living room. (I of course took over the heavy work after I took this picture and received some mighty yelling from her for not helping and continually yapping on about life, death, and this silly tradition.)
Okay, seriously, I’m way behind on blogging and have a bunch of updates. I hope to get caught up this week. I’ve got lots and lots of photos and portraits to share. More to come!!