The Hunt for a Christmas Tree

This year, my boyfriend and I could not find the time to complete our usual Christmas tradition of traveling to the Northern part of Rhode Island to choose and cut our own Christmas tree. We have completely opposite schedules- I go to work from 9-5, get home at 6, he leaves the house at 5 to get to work for 6. Other days, I don't get out of class until it is dark out- conditions not very conducive choosing a Christmas tree out of a field. And even if I was able to get out a little early, we still didn't have anywhere we could choose and cut a tree around this part of the state, adding an hour and resulting in darkness once again. So, we gave up and decided that one day after my last class we'd pick a tree lot and be done with it. Fortunately for me, one of my professors cancelled a class last Thursday. Immediately, I woke up my boyfriend and told him we finally had time to get a tree. We had already asked people who live around here if there was anywhere to choose and cut Christmas trees, and their answer was always the same- Leydens. Well, Leydens is basically as far from here as going home. After doing some online research, we were able to find a list of registered tree farms in Rhode Island. We were happy to find out that there was a tree farm just up Route 2 close to campus.

We drove to Schartner's Farm listening to Christmas music on the radio and enjoying the crisp, clear morning. When we arrived we were directed to drive far behind the store, down a dirt path lined with tiny pine trees. There were giant wooden candy canes lining the dirt road as we drove closer to our destination. Finally, we reached a seasonably decorated cabin with a sign that read "Tree House." There were wreaths on every window of the cabin and garland strung along the front porch railing. Little electric candles shone from each windowsill and Christmas music wafted towards us as we got out of the car. A middle-aged man wearing a Santa hat greeted us and told us where we could find our desired 6ft Frazier Fur trees. As we made our way up the hill, surrounded by the scent of pine and the sound of the music from the cabin, I was incredibly grateful for my cancelled class and not having to grab a tree from a lot in the dark. This is when Christmas starts for me, with the good-hearted argument about which tree to take home (I like the big fat ones, he likes the perfectly shaped ones), the cutting of the tree, and carrying it out to the car.