We went and got our Christmas tree last night at the local tree lot near our house. It was pretty cold outside, nearly enough give it the authentic "going to get the tree" feel I remember from childhood, but not quite. My toes didn't freeze as we walked the rows looking for that perfect tree (not dried out, strong scent, full fat shape with no visible trunk through the branches) and my hands didn't get cold as I pulled out trees to inspect them more closely. After ten minutes of searching, we found our candidate. I had a good feeling about him almost immediately.
He was new to the lot, just delivered. A little under 6', he was full nearly up to the top, then had a small gap, then a burst of branches. At the top, a long branch reached skyward, perfect for holding the star. Every year I have a very emotional connection to my Christmas tree. It's almost as if each tree has a personality of its own, and when I find the one I like, we're fast friends. This year is no different, and my heart warms as I look at him sitting in the bay window, patiently awaiting the lights and decorations that will come this evening. (Pictures to follow when my new camera arrives.)