I follow the track on foot, walking behind a family with three children excitedly carrying their chosen Christmas tree that I’ve just cut down. It’s Saturday morning, the last day of November, and the farm is buzzing with people on opening day. The sun is bright in the sky after the storms of the week, and I’m surrounded by the sound of dripping as the snow starts to melt from branches all around me. The elf hats are pinned to intermittent Christmas trees, glittery footprints are spread between the trunks, and the silver bells hanging in the branches jingle with every wisp of the gentle breeze. I swing the saw by my legs as I walk, humming along to the strains of Frank Sinatra’s version of ‘Little Drummer Boy’, which is playing from a speaker on the roof of the caravan. The track around the farm is frozen earth, surrounded by the snow that has settled again, and all around me are the excited screams and laughter of children as they dash around, playing hide and seek behind the Norway spruces, and their squeals of disappointment as the crunch of their shoes in the snow gives away their hiding places too easily, interspersed with the good-natured arguments of families who disagree on which type of tree to get and how high their living room ceiling is.

When we get back to the wide open driveway, the family drink hot chocolates and watch as I run their tree through the netting machine. I take it to their car, parked on the verge halfway along the main road because there are so many cars here that they couldn’t get any closer. A huge thrill goes through me as they hand over the money and thank me profusely, promising to be back next year.

Noel’s serving hot chocolates in the caravan and he leans forward and beckons me over when I get back. I stand up on tiptoes so I can hear him.

‘Congratulations. That was your first sale on your own little Christmas tree farm. You’re now officially a Christmas tree farmer.’ He leans out of the window and presses his lips to my cheek, taking advantage of the brief lull between customers. The hot chocolate stand was definitely a good idea. But then again, when isn’t hot chocolate a good idea?