I made it! My roots spread out in the northern Midwest soil and fed me. I stretched and grew and healed from the shearing machete. I stood tall and proud with my pine companions of several years. I was taller than the humans walking down our rows.
They tagged me. Yes, it seems a small gesture. But it marked me for the cutter. Moved me one step closer to my ultimate goal.
The saw came. I went numb. Pulled, dragged, tossed onto a truck I nestled with my field mates. We were literally carried away, forced into a different pile, and received a protective net. Then a larger truck and a longer journey.
Cool air, the almost frosty nights, gave way to milder temperatures. I sure could use a drink. Mile after mile the flat bed semi carried hundreds of us. The top layer received a little rain. I enjoyed the moister air and a few drops trickling down.
Humans unload us. Give us another sort and count. Then on a sunny November morning I get my chance. I’m set upright and cut out of my netting. I stretch my limbs. Do you see how pretty I am? Check out my fine shape.
Shoppers look, take some of my companions away. No need to worry. A few cool nights later and December begins. I refuse to shiver under the string of lights at the perimeter of our lot.
She picked me! I’m clothed in net again, perched on the roof of a sedan, and carried off to a modest house. It’s all I ever wanted. I’m going to be a real Christmas tree!
Starr Tree Farm is now available wherever fine ebooks are sold.