TREE OUT OF SEASON

The streets always look a little less cheery at the beginning of January. But there was one house I saw yesterday, as I walked past, that had blown festive raspberries at the Twelfth Night Rule. In the twilight, it suddenly stood out, with its windows full of twinkling lights: a beacon of cheery warmth, lighting up a cold, dark road.

"Good for you!" I said, out loud... to the actual house. I quickly checked to see whether anyone else was in earshot, then pretended to be on my phone just in case.

Meanwhile, back in the office, and still in my eyeline, is the fully-decorated Engineering Tree, bristling with silver tinsel, old compact discs, computer chips, and ethernet cables. No-one seems to have the time to take it down and shove it all back in the book-cupboard for the next eleven months. So there it is.

I'm finding it strange how I can't say "good for you," to the tree. I wonder what the difference is? Maybe the house with lights just looked warm and welcoming in the dark yesterday? As though I could have knocked on the door and been invited in for mince pies. Whereas here, in this plasma-lit, soul-vacuum, the shabby-looking Christmas tree over there just seems out-of-place... and almost offensive; as though it's taunting us about the holidays we've just had.

It is true though of course, that good things must come to an end at some point - and everything has its season. I always thought it would be weird if Wizzard's 1973 Christmas wish came true: we'd have stopped the kids from singing, and the band would have had their instruments plugged-up with old socks by now, if it really could be Christmas every day. What an awful idea! But don't get me started on that - it's truly messed up to say that the ‘snowman brings the snow’, and I can’t get past it.

In the Philippines of course, it’s still going on. And they started in September; their Christmas lasts for months! And in Russia, where they use the Julian calendar, it is Christmas today. One of the orthodox patriarchs was on Twitter this morning, delivering his Christmas message from behind a long white beard and a fireplace.

“Good for you,” I said to the screen.

I think mostly the prevailing attitude in the office has been, “That was fun, now let’s get on with distracting ourselves with work.” It’s a flurry of good intentions, and I’m not sure I expect it to last at that pace, or with that much enthusiasm. However, there it is, swirling busily around, and entirely ignoring the tree out of season.

So anyway, it is necessary of course, for the streets to go dark again for a while. I guess soon it’ll slowly feel like the evenings are getting brighter, and there might be whispers of Spring on the wind. Maybe we’ll catch a glimpse of the dryads and the hamadryads stirring from their sleep. Perhaps the fawns will play and the smell of cherry blossom will fill the air, and we’ll catch a glimpse of Aslan through the trees... or however you want to imagine lovely Springtime pouring from the earth.

I do hope the engineers have put that tacky old Christmas tree away by then.