I ventured out in Newberry, Michigan to find the perfect tree. Balsam fir? Colorado Spruce? My eyes and heart settled on a gorgeous blue spruce that was almost seven feet tall and fat.
I love the tradition of putting up a tree. The house dogs must think we've lost our minds every year though, bringing a tree into the house. I vaguely know the Yule history and the Christian historical symbolism of the apple being plucked from the tree in paradise. But I like to think of trees as symbols of family. They take root, and grow with branches ebbing out like families branch out and grow.
A Christmas tree is an extension of this symbolism: going through the ornaments every year, many belonged to my grandmother, now deceased. Some were made by Sophie when she was in grade school.
|Sophie, eating pizza, while Elise shows her an ornament|
....and some were even made by me when I was in grade school.
One special ornament holds a picture of my favorite dog ever, Kahlua, with a little bell that was fastened to her collar throughout her life. Though she died of lung cancer four years ago, that ornament makes her live on.
So now a little part of the U.P. stands in my living room. It smells so fragrant and wonderful, and reminds me of the places that I love.
Until next time....as always