Opinion

Since I grew up on the east coast I’ll boast only for a moment that I feel lucky to have grown up with seasons: fall was fall, with its flurry of yellow and brown leaves and swirling winds; winter always meant a few snow flurries, and then a bunch of heavy duty snow storms, which meant a pretty good snow pack, roadside snow piles and slush along the side of the road where the snow plows shoveled the snow out of the way. And spring was a blaze of green grass and flowers.

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, tree farms across the nation are thrust into the spotlight and sellers start their busiest time of...