Don't Be Like The Fir Tree

I always enjoy going to choose my Christmas tree because it takes me up the hill to Harold's Park Farm. The farmer remembers me because he had to tow my daughter's S2000 off a raised manhole cover hidden under the snow a few years ago. We took our cars up there mainly for the sport of negotiating the icy incline. 

We usually talk photography and today he told me that he has hardly used the camera his wife bought him a couple of years ago, partly as he is too busy but also because he doesn't know how to use it. I told him about Tog Squad, sure one of the squadies could help him.

Once I'd loaded the tree I went for a walk in the tree plantation. Last time I was there I was worried as there were lots of trees that seemed to have grown too big to sell. They have had all the lower branches removed and many have been sold, just the top sections I would imagine.

I've been reading Hans Christian Andersen's sad story The Fir Tree. The tale is about a fir tree so anxious to grow up, so anxious for greater things, that he cannot appreciate living in the moment. Carpe diem everyone.