This is where the Perez's get their Christmas tree every year. On Christmas Eve Robin and I venture to the farm to find the perfect tree. We have done this in wind so bitter as it ripped over the ridges it blinded you with tears that froze to your face. We have slogged through rain and mud on bare ground. We've come home drenched from wandering through slush laden boughs. But this year, fresh powder draped the landscape and a gentle snow whispered to earth.
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