A Barn, a Wreath, and the Start of Christmas

The season doesn’t start with the lights or the shopping for me—it starts the night our Garden Club meets in the barn with clippers, ribbon, and an armful of greens. By the time everyone arrives, the long tables look like the forest floor—magnolia, cedar, pine, holly—and the whole place smells exactly like December should. We bring what we can from our own yards, our neighbors’ yards, and maybe even from behind the church if the branches were generous that year. Warm coats, work gloves, and a little good gossip complete the scene.