“who found you in the green forest?”

who found you in the green forest
and were you very sorry to come away?

Our tree has just been set into the corner by the south window. John is stringing lights and just before he began, I wanted to say, Let’s leave it bare this year, just this one year. We chose a tree growing in a thicket of whippy alders, under the big Cheekeye-Dunsmuir power lines above the Malaspina substation, and before the trees get very big, they are hacked to the ground to keep the lines clear. So a good place to cut a Christmas tree because at least we will cherish it for the week it’s in our house, and remember it. “Who found you in the green forest?” It was us, knowing within five minutes that this was the tree. The boxes of ornaments are on the floor by the sideboard. The Wayne Ngan bowl will be filled with nuts and chocolates.

But to leave the tree bare one year would also be a good thing. To keep the green boughs clear, to keep the lyrical shape of it intact, unfettered by lights or wooden horses or silvery bells. Not this year. The lights, as I mentioned, are being strung in and through the lovely branches.

look                    the spangles
that sleep all the year in a dark box
dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine

For all of you who are looking at your own tree or remembering the trees of Christmases past or lighting candles against the darkness or singing those old true carols, I wish you the happiest of days and a beautiful year to follow.