We adventured today to our favorite Christmas Tree farm in North Georgia to tackle our day after Thanksgiving tradition. The Annual Tree Hunt.
For the past two years, I’ve captured an image of my favorite tree on the farm. Dead and burned from a lightning strike, I’ve written about it here and there. I was eager to capture an image of it again this year. Alas, it was not meant to be.
An empty space remains in the field where the tree once stood. It’s trunk, cut into pieces, now serves as seating around the fire pit for marshmallow toasting and s’mores making.
With my tree missing from the landscape, I set out to find another one and came upon a majestic one that instantly drew me in.
My new beauty, majestic and barren in the cool sunshine, is what I imagine my original tree beauty looked like before she was struck by lightning and charred black from fire.
We hiked the property, finally settled on our perfect Christmas tree, loaded it onto the car and toasted marshmallows at the fire pit while we sat on the remains of my tree beauty. We filled our bellies with far too many s’mores, fed the cows and goats and packed ourselves back into the car and headed back to the city.
It was again, a successful hunt.