This Old Tree of Mine, Simply Gorgeous


Decadent is the Christmas Season, having long ago given up on the Christian concept I merged the pagan with the festive, and thus it is simply my excuse to pursue my favorite addictions; shopping and giving. Embers of the past eleven months have long since faded to ash, and blown where the winds have taken them, if there ever was a warm summer day or a cool spring breeze or crisp fall frost it has all been forgotten.  It is now time to look forward to a New Year, the return of the Sun, and so many more hopes and dreams and fears to conquer, or to fall in battle, but another year none the less.  On the most holiest of nights I now simply light a candle on my porch and watch the flame dance with the falling snow flakes, and then go back inside to warmth and brightly wrapped presents, and a tree so glorious it hurts the eyes.  This year I had to restring the lights on the tree I have had for eight years and when I was done my godless child and I looked upon it with wonder and awe, it is more beautiful in its simplicity than it ever was covered in the decorations of man, and so it remains untouched, with the exception of a few perfectly placed fairy lights.  Oh December, I never knew your name until I moved to the land of snow, and I thank you for your gift of simplicity, it has been a long time coming.


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