Dressed up in its finery, this Douglas fir feels very good about itself.
Ask me how I know.
Or, well, Viewer Dear, I'm just going to tell you.
Today we had a beautiful, late autumn afternoon. The Yard Man was once again trotting his horses to and fro at the tree farm. But I was having a fine time stringing lights and hanging a whole assortment of historical, fancy do-dads upon that Douglas fir.
"Some of these ornaments with which I'm gracing your boughs go all the way back to Creation!"*
Every time I opened another dusty box of decorative items, I would exclaim over them, letting the tree know how stunning it was going to look once I'd got them pinned on!
And, wouldn't you know, late afternoon, just about the time my exultations were beginning to be a bit strained, I finished dressing that tree and stepped back for a look.
Reader Dear, that tree was absolutely glowing!
*I had to confess that it was only back to the time when I was the Creator. Those empty English walnut shells, with a hand-fashioned wire hook, glued together and spray-painted silver were painstakingly formed when I was a child.