This years tree - Jeremy Miranda , 2024.

American , b. 1980 -

Because in our hearts, this is how summer returns to the northern hemisphere; this sun a baton passed in the annual relay as the south prepares for what winter may bring.

Among our number, where the hilltops flatten enough for people to trust their feet in the gloom, for over a century now morris dancers have set out in the fading dark to dance in the dawn, for the same reason we do anything: because it's what we do. That's all tradition is, after all.

And every year, alongside the bells, a passage from Terry Pratchett's Hogfather rings in my mind.

"The sun would have risen just the same, yes?"

NO.

"Oh, come on. You can't expect me to believe that. It's an astronomical fact."

THE SUN WOULD NOT HAVE RISEN.

...

"Really? Then what would have happened, pray?"

A MERE BALL OF FLAMING GAS WOULD HAVE ILLUMINATED THE WORLD.

And so, every year, follow the sound of bells and sticks, the chorus of voices singing Hal And Tow, and you'll find a bunch of knackered weirdos in the middle of nowhere in daft hats and a chill breeze, but proud of what they've done.

One year she had us sew our own stockings. This wasn’t a huge hit as I was requested to sew immediately upon waking, a skill I largely lack. My brother hated his inadequacy as I don’t think he’d gotten even the cursory education I had with a needle and thread. I think mom thought we’d make new ones each year and they’d be like a fun memento. Our dissatisfaction with the whole thing meant we skipped it the next year and I’ve been using the same janky stocking that I sewed half asleep ever since.

For two years she tried to do holiday cookie decorating but my dad griped about all the sugar in the house while gorging on cookies and the tradition faded away.

For a few years she remembered to always put a geode in the stocking that we could break open with a hammer. It was fun at first, but I had to eventually ask her to stop because I didn’t have anywhere to keep a million geodes.

We went to movies some years but trying to find a film we all wanted to see proved troublesome enough that it fizzled out.

This last holiday she just announced they’d be leaving for December and didn’t do anything with family at all.

She pines for familial connection while having little idea of how to maintain relationships. It’s more important for her to have a smiling picture as a memory than to actually be happy. She wants a picture perfect family that gets along and is constantly disappointed by what she has instead.

One of her favorite photos is the last camping trip we went on as a family, me and my siblings with their kids. She croons about how nice it was to have us all together and I don’t say that all I remember from the trip is learning my brother was a drug addict and seeing my sister hit my nephew across the face.

I reached out recently to suggest that since we’ve all got bikes now and my parents are both officially retired we can do a weekly bike ride. This was met with delight and excitement.