Trunk Show: By Sandy Hingston

Cutting down the Christmas tree is a family tradition. "Too thin," my son Jake pronounces, his breath white in the cold air. "Too fat," my daughter Marcy says critically, shifting from one booted foot to the other to keep warm. "Too tall," declares my husband Doug- the final arbiter, since he's carrying the bow saw. "How about that one?" He points across the snow dusted field, and the four of us traipse off together. No, we're not putting on an al fresco version of The Three Bears. We're scouring a cut-your-own tree farm in Pottstown for the perfect Christmas tree.
It's a habit we fell into when we moved here from Philadelphia. In the city, we bought our trees pre-cut, from vendors on sidewalks and in parking lots, so the notion of cutting down our own tree, way out in the country, seemed ruggedly exotic. That first year, Marcy and Jake were toddlers, and so thrilled by the tractor ride across the frozen fields that they didn't complain once that they were cold.

Must be their Pennsylvania heritage. While bringing evergreens indoors at the winter solstice dates back to at least the ancient Celts and Romans - a way of clinging to the hope of spring and rebirth - most early American settlers considered the tradition pagan. Pennsylvania's German immigrants, though, decorated community Christmas trees beginning in the mid-18th century. And once Queen Victoria's beloved German husband, Prince Albert, erected a family tree in England in the 1840s, the custom caught on. Sketches of the tree were published in British newspapers and reprinted in America - which is why we think of decorated Christmas trees as "Victorian."

Today, Pennsylvania has more Christmas tree farms than any other state in the nation: There are more than 2,000 of them, producing 1.7 million trees every year. The vast majority of those trees - including last year's National Christmas Tree at the White House, which came from Crystal Spring Tree Farm in the Pocono Mountains - are sold pre-cut. But you can find cut your-own farms throughout the state.

Some of these are small businesses, with smiling mom-and-pop operators who'll hand you a saw and set you free to wander their acreage until a tree strikes your fancy. Others put on a show, with horse-drawn sleigh or tractor rides out to the cutting fields, indoor ornament shops, model train displays, visits with Santa, and hot chocolate, doughnuts, coffee, soup and hot dogs for sale. We've been to both sorts, and each has its charms. Even if (like me) you're not really the outdoors-in-winter type, a trip to a tree farm is fun since you don't stay out long. And plenty of our Christmas card photos through the years have been of our kids, red-cheeked and grinning, showing off our tree of choice before we chop it.

What you look for in a cut-your-own tree comes down to individual taste - and, of course, where you plan to put it. Jake, a child of excess, has always felt the bigger the tree, the better. Marcy is less patient with boughs taking up the better part of the living room. (Experience has taught us that a tree looks one helluvalot bigger when you get it home than it does in the field.) Most farms price trees by the foot, from about $6 to $12 per foot last year, depending on the variety - and on how many frills the farm has to fund. But some farms have "any-tree-for-one-price" fields, where a monster spruce costs no more than a Charlie Brown sapling. Our old Victorian house has 10-foot ceilings, and we used to take full advantage of these bargains.

Some folks like long-needled trees, like the Scotch pine; others prefer the shorter-needled but sturdier-stemmed blue spruce or Fraser fir. Needle retention varies by species, but how much that matters depends on how long you plan to keep your tree up. I won't buy a Christmas tree that doesn't have a strong scent, but not everybody loves that clean pine aroma for three weeks straight.

No matter your pine scent preference, when you've chosen the perfect tree, start chopping! The chief woodsman must get belly-down on the ground, and other family members are inevitably enlisted to hold, pull or carry the prickly, sticky-sapped tree, so wear old clothes, and bring heavy garden gloves all around. Though the farms provide saws, Doug brings his own along, to be sure it's sharp; a dull blade can turn your outing into an interminable drag.

The farm staff - cheery high-school kids, as a rule - will ask whether you want your tree baled, shaken and drilled. Baling wraps it in a net, making it much easier to tie to the top of your car and get in the front door once you're home. Shaking gets rid of loose needles that would otherwise wind up in your rug. Drilling puts a narrow hole a few inches up the trunk, and only
matters if your Christmas tree stand has a spike meant to fit that hole. Ours does; it only takes one instance of the cat toppling a fully bedecked tree to convince you of the wisdom of this. (And even so, we buttress with ropes.) Most places charge a few bucks for these services; we always tip the kids, too.

It isn't easy, in the height of holiday season, to block out a couple of hours for a trip to the tree farm. In the midst of the holiday rush - with cookies to bake, presents to wrap, carols to sing and relations to visit - we've been sorely tempting to let our cut-your-own tradition lapse. Somehow, we never do. Our collective blood pressure may shoot up as we hurry to the car and careen along icy country roads to the Christmas tree farm. But once we're out in the fields under a steel-blue sky shot with feathery clouds, debating the merits of this choice or that while hawks wheel high overhead, time slows, and maybe even runs backward - didn't we stand right here staring at this one last year? And what could be more in the holiday spirit than the graceful dance to consensus?

"That's the one we want," Jake and Marcy pronounce at long last, and Doug sets to work with his saw.

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Eagle Eyes: By Ed Wetschler

The first bald eagle I ever spotted in winter was riding an ice floe on the Delaware River. The floe drifted past my position near a boat launch ramp in Lackawaxen, just close enough so I could identify the fish it was clutching, a bass. The eagle spread his wings- its six-plus-foot wingspan looked improbably wide- and I felt a chill as this massive raptor glared at me with a fierce frown. My momentary fear was absurd, as bald eagles do not attack humans. But even so, I stood very still and watched.

The eagle folded its wings back up against its torso, secure on its island of ice. Returning its concentration to breakfast, the eagle devoured the fish's flank from its talons.

That bald eagle was the first of many I saw that morning, and even now the memory captivates me. Catch sight of a bald eagle, and Jan Lokuta agrees, the moment is hypnotic. "We never fail to spot eagles, but I'm still awestruck by this bird," says Lokuta, a volunteer for the nonprofit Eagle Institute, which has a field office in Lackawaxen. "It is a magnificent creature."

It comes with a magnificent story, too. In pre-colonial times, approximately 100,000 bald eagles lived in the area we now call the Lower 48, according to the National Audubon Society. By the mid-20th century, however, this native North American bird- the icon of our nation - was facing possible extinction in every state except Alaska.

In 1960 the Audubon Society determined that the pesticide DDT in the fish that eagles were eating was resulting in thinner eggshells that broke before the embryos were ready to hatch. So in 1967, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service declared the bald eagle an endangered species, and five years later the EPA banned most uses of DDT.

The recovery of the bald eagle population has taken decades. As late as 1983, Pennsylvania could only account for three bald eagle nests in the entire state, so the state Game Commission began importing bald eagles from Saskatchewan. The hope was that the bald eagles, which mate for life and return to the same nests for 20 or more years, would take up residence here.

This reintroduction program was one of the most successful in the country. By 2005 Carl G. Roe, executive director of the Game Commission, could report that "bald eagles have at least 120 nests within the state's borders." And by 2007, Game Commission ornithologist Doug Gross could account for nests in at least 40 of Pennsylvania's 67 counties. "I spotted a bald eagle in Langhorne," reports Debby Howe, one of many Pennsylvanians who've recorded sightings on http://www.blogger.com/www.baldeagleinfo.com. "Big white head, big white tail, just soaring beautifully ... I had to pull off the road before I had a car accident." I know how she feels. This summer, right in Milford, I saw a bald eagle on a telephone wire, king of the road. And I often watch eagles when I'm fishing the upper Delaware in spring.

But the best time to see them is winter, when bald eagles from Canada join Pennsylvania's nesting pairs along lakes and, especially, rivers, swelling the resident population two- or even threefold. These eagles leave the frozen north because their cuisine of choice is fish. So unlike their meateating kin - the forest-dwelling golden eagles - they need access to water that isn't totally iced over.

Thanks to improved human behavior and wildlife management programs, this summer the Federal government was able to remove bald eagles from its list of endangered and threatene species. And bald eagles continue to move into new places in Pennsylvania. Indeed, several months ago the Game Commission could confidently send out a press release announcing that "Pennsylvanians have a greater chance of seeing a bald eagle today than anytime in probably the past 150 years."

Quite a success story, one that helps explain why, when I checked up on my canoe beside a lake in Pike County last winter, I noticed a bald eagle coasting above the tailwaters of our little dam. So I grabbed my binoculars, focused in on this most iconic of raptors and marveled at the wonderful creature soaring high above the Pocono Mountains.

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Creating a Buzz: By Mary Tarkowski

It's 32 degrees and I'm standing in a puddle in an industrial yard, surrounded by 200 big men wielding chainsaws. Wide-eyed, I note their accompanying hordes of lions and bears and gnomes. The fearful creatures stand silent, motionless, wooden- unaffected by the high-pitched drone vibrating in the air, "Oh my," I whisper, "Is this Oz?"

Well, no. This is the Ridgway Chainsaw Carvers Rendezvous, where men and women alike, are chainsaw carvers. They've traveled to Ridgway, Northeast Pennsylvania from 36 states and 12 countries- from as far away as Japan- lugging along their saws and grinders and guitars.

Now they're socializing and carving ever more creatures: tiny bear cubs peeking from tree stumps, hovering eagles, life-size grizzlies rearing up, teeth bared. Forklifts cut through the crowd, hauling mermaids and tortoises to the auction area, where they'll join 240 other sculptures carved during the event.

This gathering is the largest of its kind in the world. There's no judging and no prizes - just an opportunity for amateur and professional carvers to be together, share ideas, watch demonstrations by master carvers, and attend seminars about this true American artform. But mostly, they carve, deftly slicing into logs from this angle and that, giving life to images captured in their minds. Sawdust flies and chunks of wood fall to the ground, and, amazingly, a mountain lion or pirate begins to emerge.

I'm just one of the 30,000 bundled-up visitors who'll add to the easy atmosphere of the week. The Rendezvous isn't your ordinary crafts fair, attended by dainty ladies who bargain with tidy artisans in tidy rows of booths. Here, buzzing chainsaws dominate the scene, and log piles and pickup trucks line the edges of the space. Couples hoping to find a graceful heron or a Punxsutawney Phil groundhog for their garden good-humoredly step over open toolboxes and maneuver between snowbanks.

Some of the carvers are trained artists exploring this extreme art form and eight of this year's participants have taken a chainsaw-carving course taught by Rendezvous organizer Rick Boni at the Appalachian Arts Studio on Boot Jack Mountain. But many are self-taught, honing their skills through practice, practice, and more practice.

I wonder how an average person would even consider using a big clunky tool like a chainsaw to turn a log into a piece of art. So I ask Jim Fluke, standing beside his carved baseball player. Jim says that because of his tree service business, he already had experience with the tools. But he knew nothing about chainsaw art until he saw a carved bear by the side of the road. Then it hit him: "I can do that."

Jim isn't the only ordinary guy to have such a revelation. Farther into the cloud of sawdust, I spot Jake Albright's wood spirit squirrel feeders and Steve Rager's eagle and rabbit bench. Five years ago, Jake began chainsawing in his backyard after years of carving with hand tools. Intrigued by his friend's new activity, next door neighbor Steve took to watching, tried it himself, and thought, "I can do this." Now the two Hanover residents carve together in their adjoining yards.

At the end of the week, the artisans will scatter back to their homes to do some serious carving. Buyers will wrestle sculptures onto trucks and head out. And in one of the best mysteries of art, the alarmingly silent, motionless and wooden creatures will bring delight to all who pass by.

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Christmas Tree Farms

Ah, the holidays. Though there’s a chill in the air, the spirit of the season warms us all. What’s your favorite part of the holidays? Spending time with your family and friends? Baking? Shopping?

My favorite part -- and I’m sure yours is too -- is decorating the house and, of course, searching for that perfect tree for the family room. It’s one of the biggest traditions in my family, carried on through generations. Pennsylvania has plenty of Christmas Tree Farms all over the state so you don’t have to end up like the Griswolds, lost and trudging through heavy snow in the woods all for the sake of finding the right tree.

Pennsylvania Christmas Tree Farms offer a variety of options, from large to small, Douglas fir to blue spruce, cut or ready-to-plant. No matter which farm you visit, trust me, it will be well worth the drive!

Why don’t you combine your quest with a holiday shopping excursion as well? Better yet, make a weekend roadtrip out of it. It’s a great way to spend time with your family, or even friends.

My favorite shopping destination for the holidays is the Crossings Premium Outlets out near the Poconos. These outlets rock. They have over 100 designer and name brand stores with unbelievable savings. You can get all of your shopping done at one place!

After a full day of being on your feet and shopping, you’ll be snoozing like a baby at the Lake View Lodge Bed and Breakfast, a timber log lodge B&B adjacent to the beautiful Beltzville State Park and Lake.

Enjoy a scrumptious breakfast the next morning. You’ll need the energy because you’re taking the gang to the Camelback Ski Area. This place features 33 trails, and 15 lifts including two high-speed quads. Camelback also has three new terrain parks and two halfpipes, and a 14-chute snow tubing park. I’m telling you, it’s a wild time.

Finally, before you pack up and head for home, swing by Brown’s Christmas Tree Farms and go find yourself that tree!

This is just an example of a great winter getaway for the holidays. If I had the time, I’ll come up with a dozen more, but that’ll ruin the fun. Plan your itinerary. Go to http://www.visitpa.com/ to find the right PA roadtrips for you!

PA Gaming

Feeling lucky? Well, do ya?

Then hit the road and head for the slots

Ever since Pennsylvania welcomed gaming to the state, thousands have been cashing in big. From horse racing venues with slots to stand alone slots parlors, you’re not too far from the thrills of beating the odds and hitting the jackpot yourself.

Play the ponies or stick to the slots. Just make a weekend out of it! No matter where you go - Western Pennsylvania, Erie, the Poconos or Philadelphia – we bet you can create a weekend package to match your interests.

Take the City of Brotherly Love for example. Head to Philadelphia Park where they have more than 2,100 slot machines on two floors, alongside one of the largest racetracks in the state. Prefer table games? Philadelphia Park has reinvented table games! Try your hand at electronic blackjack or take a spin on an electronic roulette table.

You won’t go hungry in Philadelphia. One of my favorite restaurants is the nearby Carrabba's Italian Grill, where you can enjoy the fresh, savory flavors of Italy in a warm, festive atmosphere. Or how about checking out a brewery? I recommend the Triumph Brewing Company in New Hope, a brewery and restaurant featuring live music, a full gourmet menu, and great beer!

Take in some culture while you’re there too. Yeah, everyone does the Liberty Bell. So how about something different, like the Civil War and Underground Railroad Museum of Philadelphia, America's oldest chartered Civil War institution? You’ll discover hundreds of treasures donated by Civil War vets.

So no matter where you go, odds are that you’ll come up with a great roadtrip for your friends or sweetie. And maybe even hit it big! Cha-ching! Go to http://www.visitpa.com/ to find the PA roadtrips to suit your taste.