We went out to our favorite spot to cut down a Christmas tree last night. We take a scrawny young balsam from under the powerlines, where they are not allowed to get too tall anyway. This is the theory.

It is a nice little tradition, even as the kids get older, the weekends get busier, and we have trouble finding a time with sunlight and all 4 of us together.
When I was a kid we’d drive for an hour and make an afternoon out of it. For us, a very short walk, maybe a 15 minute exercise from start to finish, but a good memory, nonetheless.
I also remember Christmas tree lots where we had to keep the dogs on leash—so they wouldn’t bother the other people. We never leash Denali, but as Danny trudged ahead, at one point he hollered back for us to hold Denali—until the wolves disappeared.

Wow. Wolf sightings lately are only slightly less frequent than grouse sightings on the wildlife meter. I sure hope they’re finding enough to eat. (Do they eat the grouse? They must…I hope they do.) Well fed tender black labs might become a mighty appealing morsel.
Daniel found a tree, Denali was oblivious to the wolves, and –the holiday season has spun around us again!