Monday, January 4, 2010

AN ODE TO THE CHRISTMAS TREE




OH, CHRISTMAS TREE…
OH, CHRISTMAS TREE…

(an appreciation)

I like nature (though I’m not all that crazy about ‘wild’ life). I love hiking in the woods, walking on a sandy beach, swimming in the ocean… just smelling the fresh air. Flowers are nice in the ground or a meadow or a pot, but what I really like are trees even if I can probably name only about four different species. Memories of my father raking the leaves from the big oak tree in our yard then diving into the piles… the smells, the touch, the colors… will always be with me. Hiking the Appalachian Trail (not the “Appalachian Trail” in Argentina) during the foliage season is an all time ‘high.’ Well, as long as I don’t have to sleep under the stars on the hard ground or even in a tent when the day is done (did I mention, I really don’t like ‘wild’ life). But the tree I love the most is our yearly Christmas tree, not sitting proudly in a forest, reaching for the sky, but sitting proudly in our house, nestled in our tree stand reaching for our ceiling.


I’m also a city girl who loves walking in Manhattan amidst the beautiful man made caverns and canyons. The sight every year of the tall Christmas tree perched in the middle of Rockefeller Center always takes my breath away (well, that and the cold, wintry, New York air)… the perfect marriage of (wo)man and nature.

As long as I can remember, I’ve always had a tall Christmas tree. As tall as the ceiling in my house or apartment allowed. The aroma the tree brings to our home is so clean and fresh and no matter how the tree is shaped, there’s always a perfect angle. I also love the tree’s jewelry. The lights, the ornaments… it’s one of the reasons I love the circus – but that’s another blog. But it’s not just the trees “glitterati” I love, it’s the memory that each ornament holds. I still have the angel my grandparents gave me when I was four…

 faded, fragile ornaments from my father’s youth...

 a Santa my parents gave me when I was five or six...


the first ornaments I bought when I lived on my own…

there are hearts, wreaths, elephants and Pierre Deux ornaments my mother gave Richard and me every year we’ve been together till that last Christmas she spent with us...


 ornaments from TV shows and plays Richard wrote...

(even one from the White House Blue Room, a "Christmas in the White House" special)...

 ornaments I gave Richard as stocking stuffers...

 a cloth ‘fan’ and a cloth ‘bell’ my mother made out of fabric from one of my grandmother’s fancy “dress-up” blouses...

 baubles from friends...

 angels made by my godchild and her sister, a little cross needle-pointed by a young relative...


a card mom sent us years ago…


even an ornament I painted for us (as I did for friends) the year money was an ‘object’…


So as much as I love my noble noble for being beautiful on its own (and am sad when we ‘undress’ her every New Year’s day and send her back to the earth), I also love it because it tells the story of my life as well as any photo album. Christmas trees are memory trees. What was, what is and what can be. It’s love, loss, hope and faith. You can’t get a more perfect marriage of  (wo)man and nature than that.

9 comments:

Richard said...

Tree at last, tree at last, thank god almighty it's a tree at last!

Very sweet piece. Of course, those memories are mine as well... :)

Anonymous said...

What a beautiful story, Ilona.
- Hoang

ilona saari said...

Thanx, Hoang (you, too, honey) -- Now if only we could figure out how to post pix side-by-side ;o)

Butch said...

What a beautiful tree and I love the explanations of each and every bulb decoration you presented.
Phillip Mooney

ilona saari said...

Thank you, Butch.

ilona saari said...

Oops, Richard just told me that Butch isn't a nickname, but your email address -- so...
Thank you, Phillip!!!

Susan said...

Beautiful. Can't wait to see it person, now that I know the history, even sweeter.

Michael said...

A very sweet memory piece that clearly explains tree love.

Susan said...

So beautiful. What wonderful memories of a wonderful life.