I finished watching our DVD set of the Gilmore Girls that I have been referencing often. We love the small town. We love the memory of home. Today, I re-post a piece I wrote about West Middlesex tree lighting ceremony.
The old bank in West Middlesex had a circular drive with a grassy medium. A large pine tree grew there. The town had a special lighting of the tree, usually the first Thursday of December. Festivities for Christmas waited until December back then.
I walked down town to watch this ceremony. We sang Christmas carols and songs. Treat bags, probably from the Women's Club, filled with popcorn balls and oranges, candy canes and maybe a candy bar, delighted us. A sense of community filled the cold air, as well as, our vapor breath.
Always a chance I'd see some cute boy. You know, the boy of the week. Dark night sky brought those cuddly imaginations. Reality brought me my girlfriends. And loud singing, treat bags and a wonderfully large lit Christmas tree. A walk home under the street Christmas lights with magic in the air of small town America that we seem to never recapture. We try, though.
|Downtown Sharon last evening. Courtesy of Visit Mercer Co. PA|