Although Christmas is now behind us for another year, I hope to do a few more drive-by attempts to gaze in admiration at the array of lights. A few of the streets on my usual route are gorgeous.
My dad loved the allure of the lights. In their older house on 51st Street, the original small spruce trees that he had planted between his property and the neighbours' gradually grew to impressive heights.
As they advanced, he kept them well trimmed in cone-shaped dimensions. Dad used many strands of multi-coloured lights. His choice was to wrap each tree in spirals carefully spaced, to make them visually appealing.
Initially he was able to reach the branches from his ladder.
Over the years he backed the half ton truck close to each tree to continue with his decorating. Eventually he resorted to placing the ladder inside the box of the truck, and then had to give up because he could no longer reach the upper branches. His efforts were transferred instead to the overhang of the front of the house and the attached carport.
When I moved to my 48th Avenue address, my immediate neighbour was a gifted expert when it came to decorating. Actually she was the director of the production. Her husband was the one on the ladder; their son stood on the ground handing up the strands. She stood well back for the expansive view and directed their efforts.
Their yard always held a theme, a colour scheme. One year an aura of multi-coloured sweep of lights, the next an image of blue icicle shards dripping and glowing. Another Christmas their yard sported a family of deer in shimmering gold.
Other neighbours went more for the decorative wreaths, bows of spruce intertwined with holly berries and bells. Some wreaths held a place of honour on front doors, others hung inside on the window, glowing with a life of their own.
From my early childhood farm home, I can recall a sparse spruce in the chilly front room but not any outdoor lighting. When we moved into town, I don't remember that we had a tree. The living room was considerably smaller. Mom may have felt the crush; we were still a family of three kids, down from the original six, but still crowded. Mom instead had a display of spruce bows and ornaments stretched the length of the large windowsill.
My folks always loved Christmas. When they were still able, we went regularly to enjoy the Christmas carol festival, often taking a friend or two with us. Later I continued to transport a few single ladies along with me.
Alice particularly enjoyed the Christmas display. She and Mom piled into my car after the festival and we drove up and down streets that were not on my usual route. Some glowed with sparkling colour, one house after another. Other streets had little decoration. We felt we were able to read the economic pulse fairly accurately by the array of lights, or the lack of them.
I want to drive around again in the next few days. Most folks enjoy their light display for a few weeks, perhaps to ward off the winter doldrums. I appreciate their efforts to lighten the long months of winter in Alberta.
- Hoey is a longtime Gazette columnist
