Last updated on November 14th, 2012 at 11:26 pm
There is something so beautiful about living this country life.
It’s a feeling, really, that my experiences are crafted by seasons and what nature has to share. I use my senses more out here. Every single day I delight in the way the air smells, whether it’s the summer grass or sweet blossoms from my pear tree out front, or the warm pinot just before the harvest.
This season, though, brings us fireplace chimneys burning real wood that folks have gathered after they have downed trees of oak, old fir, or in our case the apple which lived her time, provided delicious fruit and then began to crack last spring.
Yum! A December cookout of maybe, a pork loin, over apple wood. Yep, that’ll be the plan for this clear crisp week’s forecast.
With late fall and winter closing in, the grape vines enter into dormancy and our family visits another of our “neighbor” farmer families, for our Christmas tree. This is a tradition Bryan and I started way back more than eleven years ago when we lived in adorable Carlton, Oregon.
Loads of Nobles, Grands and Douglas Firs are grown in our spectacular Willamette Valley by wonderful farming families that sell their trees here and all over America.
On more than one occasion, the children and I have been amazed by the sight of the helicopter harvest of huge tree bundles, lifted and gently dropped into the large trucks that will deliver them to Christmas tree lots and be part of some happy celebrations of this season.
Talk about SKILL!
The helicopter operator zooms in in a rubber band like oval, with hook ended rope that a ground person then attaches to the bundles, the ‘copter returns to drop its load and back again to the bundles. The speed and grace with which this dance occurs leaves us all gob-smacked!
It has also piqued my little son’s interest in becoming a pilot.
Right out of a Christmas classic story or many, many verses in the musical ditties that ring through my home in December, we bundle up, load our work boots, pile into the sleigh (only ours is the mini-van) and travel about six miles down our gravel road to find our very own tree. Are we singing on the way? Y-E-S! Loud and proud to be off key and all.
Having a blast and absolutely living this life.
It was unanimous.
This one was just waiting and wanting to come home with us, I swear I heard this tree whisper, “I’m for you, Croft family.”
Mama got down there and liberated our perfect Noble after about a good fifteen minute workout…
So much laughter and complete joy as we continued to celebrate with hot cider ‘round the cozy fire as the sun set on this wonderful day.
To punctuate the beauty of living in the country and as an early Christmas gift — as we pulled up to our gate back home, right out the window where my husband and little son and I were looking, in the clear night’s sky, shot a meteor with a “tail as big as a kite.”
Happy Holidays. With huge love, Shellie
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