The north end of a north-bound tree

There's a Christmas tree farm in the north part of my county. Each December, I smile as I drive in from points south on the highway and meet cars with evergreen trees bound to their roofs, the south end of south-bound trees. Meant for a happy hearth, the trees sometimes arch over the back of the car. I try to glimpse at the occupants, but at 70 mph, it's difficult. I just assume exhausted family, tired from apple cider and a hay ride and picking the perfect tree.

I'm used to this sight. So that's why it took a moment for me to register yesterday that something was wrong with the little SUV which pulled out in front of me from a gas station. Strapped to its roof was a Christmas tree, and I had a view of the north end of the north-bound tree. The problem? It was New Year's Eve.

I thought to pass the car, but it sped away from me, although I did catch up at a light as we entered town. But it turned left and I was left to speculate at the calendar anomaly.

Going to use it as firewood? Too scrawny. Taking it back? Uh... don't think there's a return policy on after-season Christmas trees.

How about, a special Christmas, a celebration for a returning soldier? What if someone rescued the last little tree in the lot and was now going to make it the centerpiece of a joyous post-New Year's holiday?

Oh, I like that idea. I think I'll stick with it.

Merry Christmas to the tree-bearers. Happy New Year to the rest of you.