I found this image of Christmas trees dumped at the tip quite sad. As well as ecologically depressing. Less than a month ago, these real trees will have been excitedly purchased. Maybe the whole family arrived at a garden centre or somewhere similar, words ringing out "let's buy the tree today". If it's anything like as complicated as when I was a child, the choosing of the exact, perfect tree could take hours. Mum was in charge in my day. Dad would pull tree after tree out of the pile and mum would twirl it around in a movement which those on Strictly Come Dancing would be proud of. Eventually one would fit the template and in a few hours would rise again in the bay window, resplendent in tinsel and trimmings. Then, like today, at Twelfth Night, down it came. Ours were often burnt on the open fire.
Today however at the recycling centre, piles of once living things lay discarded in a huge skip. Less than two weeks ago these silent evergreen, doyens of the wildwood, oversaw joy and happiness as families came down on Christmas Day to excitedly open presents. Before that the thrill of decorating the tree and that first "ooooh" as the lights were switched on for the first time. Less than a week ago these same trees saw in the New Year. Each quietly witnessed dancing, fun, popping of bottles of fizz and enjoyment in the warmth of the festive home. Today however, their practical use is over. Shambolic they lie destined for their final journey in the coffin of compost chippings. A short life, maybe ten years if lucky, from seedling to being chopped down in their prime for a few short weeks of glory. A metaphor for many aspects of modern life. The life of a throw away society, we indulge ourselves in these days. That ever increasing cycle of anticipation, purchase, use and then rapid displeasure. There really is joy in bringing a Christmas tree into our homes, but before we take the tree down, stop and reflect on what we do in the light of Christmas.
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