The holly trees have stood at either end of the porch for nearly 15 years. They arrived in black plastic buckets, stubby and unimpressive, veritable runts compared to the proud sentinels they grew to be. I remember the delight with which I cut the first berry-bearing branches, so proud to be able to walk out the front door and gather from them my own Christmas decorations.
Trimming the tree
Sign up for the Herald's free e-newsletter