The
icy wind whipped throughout the pine farm, snaking between and around each
luscious tree. Hundreds, thousands of the tree symbolic for Christmas lined the
countryside in an uncountable number of rows and columns. Snowflakes gently
danced downward from the overcast sky, adding a fresh layer to the snow already
present on the ground and filling in the plentiful imprints belonging to the
feet of preceding visitors. On the western horizon, the sun could be seen,
making its descent through the evening. The skies were simultaneously dimming
into a clouded navy hue.
Families, couples, and even solitary
folks roamed the extensive tree nursery, looking for the perfect holiday tree
to decorate. A family with three small kids bundled up in winter coats, gloves,
hats, and scarves strolled down a column in the middle of the coppice. One of
the little girls peered ahead and then scampered as fast as she could in her
clunky boots to a distant stump. She clambered atop and poised as the Statue of
Liberty, causing her parents to chuckle and her younger brothers to mimic her
actions. The little girl gazed upwards towards the sky and grinned. Dainty
flakes continued to descend, so she held her pink tongue out, in an attempt to
capture a frozen crystal.