I always get melancholy when Christmas comes to it’s abrupt end. Not that I’m so holiday oriented, it’s seeing how little it matters when it’s over.
The trees tossed on the curb like discarded bodies, particularly disturb me; so many chopped down for our one month of Yuletide amusement.
Yeah, I know, they’re recycled into mulch, but I’d rather see them majestically governing the parks and woods of our great land.
What’s mulch? It’s ground up bark and leaves you then scatter to make plants and trees grow, that we will eventually just hack, so no mulch lectures if you please.
I’m a big believer in nature having feelings. Did they have families? Is some tiny tree searching for it’s mom? Yeah, Susannah, get a grip, but the waste of it all truly makes me sad.
It takes so long for an evergreen to grow into it’s proud, statuesque self, then we come along and shorten it’s life by about 100 years, and for what, to have something to put our gifts under?
What’s the answer? Artificial trees, which I’ll admit, are very ugly are not. I remember my mother almost stabbing my father with our Christmas star, tossing it out on the front lawn, when he brought one home.
But I think we should start decorating what we can keep that will continue to flourish way after that last Noel….like a ficus tree, or potted palm. No, it won’t look like Twas the Night Before Christmas and All Through the House…but nature will be so much happier holding on to her own.
And as far as mulch goes…mulch this.