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For the last six years I've made a solstice wreath for our front door.  A bit of greenery in the grayest of days; a reminder of the green days before and those ahead.  A symbol of the wheel of the year, the turning of the seasons.  A circle like that of the sun. 

Last year we gathered the pine boughs from a nearby forest, carefully snipping little wayward bits from many trees over many acres.  We set out today to do the same and instead happened upon a grove of trees that had been topped within the last few days.  Pines chopped at their midsections by some careless and greedy person.  From the branches strewn about, we picked up just enough boughs for a wreath. 

Back at the lake, I gathered a few bunches of berries from the numerous Mountain Ash trees that dot the shore.  Berries from a tree that symbolizes protection.  Protection from the cold, from the long dark days ahead. 

Weaving wreaths, I can not help but remember the winter my mother and her friend decided that they'd make wreaths for every window and door of their houses and barns.  Dozens of wreaths.  And if that wasn't enough, they vowed to hang them all as soon as the Thanksgiving dishes were washed so that when the sun rose on the first day of the Christmas holiday season, their homes would be festooned with holiday cheer.  All of this was to outdo (or at least surprise) the flamboyant neighbor who was the belle of the local holiday home tour.  In the days leading up to the unveiling, Mom and her friend trekked out to the woods to gather pine boughs -- forgetting twine to bind the branches for carrying, so that they ended up fashioning bungee cords from their bras to carry mammoth piles home to the clandestine wreath assembly line that had taken over the basement of our barn. 

I don't remember the reaction of the neighbor that Friday morning; but green florist wire, brisk air, and the scent of pine boughs mixed with leather gloves will always conjure up the image of my creative and spirited mother getting a complete kick out of making stuff with her friends.  I remember as a twelve-year-old thinking they were absolutely nuts.  But now, I completely understand.

Comments

[Gwyn]

How lovely - and that just goes to show the importance of us as parents doing crazy things!

[emily]

i love that story! spirited - what an excellent word.

your wreath is just lovely. i had never before considered the symbolism of the wreath (not having them as a part of our tradition), and it's even nicer than i could have imagined.

[Ali]

Lovely tale. And I understand many things about my Mother that I didn't at 12.

[Ellie]

What a glorious, special memory of your Mother. It is true that those memories allow us Mamas to keep up the craziness - one day our children will understand. Beautiful traditions and memories for you this Season.

[Melissa]

What a lovely wreath! ;o)

[Nessie]

what a fantastic story!
my god father makes wreaths, and I look forward to them each year- he puts lots of energy into them and it brings a smile to our faces to hang them on our door.

[h.]

Oh I love the bit about the bras! What wonderfully resourceful women! Hurrah!

What a wonderful post!

[Mom]

Your blog brought a huge smile to this old braless wreathmaker!

It is the wonderful way of life that we find understanding of our parents as we experience life and as we become parents ourselves.

Your wreath is beautiful!

[Gina]

A gorgeous wreath, very clever!
First time looking at your beautiful blog ~ will be back again soon. :O)

[Angie]

Lovely story, I bet the house looked beautiful with those wreaths :-)

[em.s]

very cute memory. why dont we move towards that simple life these days? i am over the fast, the consuming, the dispensable. give me branch carrying bars any old day!

[leslie]

oh....i adore this post. and what your mother said actually brought a tear to my eye and made my heart swell.
i love the moments when i "get" my mother.

[blair]

what a great story. Your wreath turned out beautifully, and to think you really didn't even have to use your bra (but you, of course, would know how if necessary, thanks to Mom).

[Grace]

gasp. this is THE BEST blog post EVER. it's so inspiring, perfect, funny, thoughtful ... everything i look for in a blog post. thank you for sharing a bit of your family's tradition, and a bit of your history. xoxo