Winter Wonderland

Over the weekend Carol and I joined Charlie Bennett - his wife Cynthia stayed behind to care for her ailing mother - at his cabin in the mountains above Prescott. Ostensibly we went to help him get the cabin ready for the winter - but is was really a get outa Dodge moment. Saturday night we traveled down into town to the town square to watch the lighting of the Christmas tree they do there annually. It's been a long time since I lived in a small town and I'd forgotten the small town magic there is at Christmas. There were hundreds and hundreds of people gathered on the courthouse grounds. Whole families with their lawn chairs and blankets and Thermos's of hot toddy's. Grandma sitting with her stocking cap and legs tucked in by hand made quilts sipping a steaming cup of something while the grand kids ran around absolutely pumped with the holiday electricity in the air.

The choirs of the local high school and middle school gathered on the steps and sang traditional Christmas carols as a narrator told the Christmas story. No political correctness here, just good solid small town values. It was obvious that this was a yearly tradition for many of the people gathered there and I overheard many more than one person on their cellphones trying to connect with friends and family at the base of the giant statue of the Rough Rider. "I'm on the left side of the statue!" not realizing that left is a relative term and the frustrated friend was probably on the other side.

At the proper moment in the Christmas story the switch was thrown and the entire square was lit with Christmas lights. The crowd cheered and everyone with cell phones and cameras were clicking as fast as they could.

The atmosphere was a joyful one and one that I haven't experienced for years. One of the problems of living in the big city. Not that you can't gather with a crowd but this was different. This was several hundred friends and family gathering in the chilled darkness and connected together to celebrate the birth of Christ. There was a palpable sense of goodwill and peace in that moment. Maybe for some of us that feeling would wear off later, but in that moment and in that place hundreds of us were drawn together as one with that full feeling you get around your heart when you experience the story that would change the world.

After the festivities we went a couple blocks down Cortez street to a delightful place called the American Jazz Cafe. I had, what was billed as "the bad boy" which was a stuffed pork chop the likes I have never seen before. To say it was wonderful is a gross understatement. To top it off there was a very good jazz quartet playing with a very good girl singer.

When we returned to Phoenix is was raining. This was the culmination of a (except for missing Cindy) very wonderful weekend. If I wasn't in the holiday spirit before I certainly am now.

Prescott for the tree lighting. I recommend it for anyone. Prescott has lots of motel space. Make the weekend of it.