Christmas Tree

It starts in the doorway. Cold air, a little rain on the coat, and the tree is finally inside.

Before the lights go on, before the boxes of ornaments are opened, there is that first sparkle: a bright lift of citrus, a bite of crisp apple, a pinch of warm spice. It is the feeling of the season getting started, a little impatient and a little giddy.

Then the room settles. Pine needle, fir balsam and cedar unfold slowly, the green, resinous heart of the tree. This is the part you notice when you stop to look at it: the quiet, the glow, the hush that falls once everything is in place.

And underneath it all, a soft musk, like a wool blanket over the shoulders, keeps the scent lingering long after the decorating is done.