Slogging through Mud at the Tree Farm

tree on car
A little story from yesterday. 

IT’S THE LATE DECISION
to gather here in Ohio
that puts off the tree purchase.

IT’S THE FORECAST of snow and wind due overnight
that sends us out into the driving rain
and not-yet-freezing temps this morning
to the tree farm
instead of waiting until Saturday.

We didn’t go last weekend
because of our trip back East.

Tuesday evening we tried Lowe’s,
but the pickings were slim
and the trees lacked promise
and they aren’t planning on getting more in.

IT’S THE DRIVING RAIN
that makes my sole criterion for choice of tree
“the one closest to the car.”
I am willing to bear the shame of it.

I hope, hope, hope all the way there
that the tree lot by the parking area
has some already cut,
waiting to be chosen,
because,
though I’ve donned boots
to climb the hill,
if necessary,
I’m not eager to do it.

It rains even harder
as we pull in,
but the tree lot is full
and they are all beauties!

* * *

THE SIGN ON THE DOOR reads
“If here outside our usual business hours,
leave money in mailbox,”
and so, no response but dogs barking inside,
we leave the ticket and cash in an envelope,
and go.

It’s the quickest tree purchase we ever make
and maybe the best,
but then I say that every year.

“Surely,
it won’t hold a candle to the one we get
the first Christmas you are home again,”
I write.

The tree for that year
still stands out on the farm –
thriving,
growing,
waiting for us.
Even now, I climb the hill for it.

About Marilyn

Reading, thinking, listening, writing and talking about faith, creativity, ESL for refugees, grief and finding the story in a story. Student of Spanish. Foe of procrastination. Cheez-it fan. People person with hermit tendencies or vice-versa. Thank you so much for reading.
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