SHEAR DIFFERENCE
Saskatchewan Christmas tree farmers put in time to sustain tradition, Stephanie McKay writes.
On the last day of a very hot July, Bob Mason and Cora Greer were busy tending to their crop.
In most ways, it was no different than a busy summer morning at any Prairie farm. But as Mason swiped at one of his plants with a machete-like knife, he unlocked a familiar but out-of-context smell.
The unmistakable scent of a fresh balsam fir, a fragrance inextricably tied to Christmas, wafted into the warm air every time Mason took his shearing knife to a tree’s needles.
Mason and Greer own Mason Tree Farm near Kenaston and have been selling Christmas trees to Saskatchewan families since 1998. An outsider might find it strange to smell Christmas in July, but Mason doesn’t think about it anymore.
Joined by three summer students and their 13-year-old Jack Russell/beagle mix, the couple spends most summer days in the field. Summer is all about shaping the trees into the perfect form.
Greer focuses on finishing touches, pruning the tops and bending high branches into ones suitable for an angel or star topper.
The team starts most summer days at 7 a.m. By the end of the day, the cuffs of their shirts are stiff with sap. Mason and Greer’s bathroom is equipped with industrialstrength soap that is usually used to remove grease.
The three young women helping out at the farm were all in their third summer this year. In the fall, they planned to return to university, including 19-year-old Jade Peters, a track athlete and biology student with a scholarship at University of Guelph.
Peters has a tattoo of a spruce tree on her inner arm. She got it on a whim, but acknowledges it’s appropriate given her current summer job. She likes the flexibility of the hours, which allows her to continue training for track meets.
After an early lunch break at 10 a.m., the three young women headed back into the field in the back of the farm’s pickup truck, each of them sporting a baseball catcher’s leg guard to protect their skin from the shearing blade.
When the trees reach the desired height, they are lovingly adorned in family homes around the province.
“It makes you feel good, and you know people appreciate all the work you put into it,” Greer said.
It takes eight to 14 years for a tree to reach the most popular height of around six and a half feet, depending on the variety.
Greer and Mason’s hard work all year leads to December, when the couple opens their little red barn to customers. People drive in from kilometres away to chop down their own Christmas tree.
Mason, a former grain farmer, said he never thought he’d enjoy catering to the public, but now he loves watching families pick out their trees.
“The tree is kind of secondary; it’s the experience of coming out here. Being part of that activity gives us pleasure and fulfilment,” he said.
BRANCHING OUT
Mason Tree Farm is one of 16 in Saskatchewan. Rather than treat each other like competition, the growers behave as allies, meeting annually to discuss challenges and changes in the industry through the Prairie Christmas Tree Growers Association (PCTGA).
The organization’s newest member is Ian King, who runs Northwood Farm near Hafford. The vegetable farmer planted his first balsam firs a year ago. It will be another eight or so before they’re big enough to sell.
King said he considers himself a patient person.
“They look great right now,” he said of the 10- to 12-inch seedlings. “It’s actually a pretty fun process to watch every year; it’s almost like watching children grow or something.”
King, his wife Christina and their two children live on the farm and run an organic market garden. They moved to Saskatchewan four years ago from B.C.
They see the Christmas trees as a long-term investment.
“It seems like a relatively safe bet if you stay small,” he said, adding he hopes to pay for his children’s education with the crop.
He’s still learning about the potential market, but hopes trends in the food realm will extend to his new crop.
“People like to buy their local vegetables,” he said. “If they’re already interested in supporting local business and local food, it’s not going to be a far reach to appeal to that demographic.”
Greer and Mason said they’re happy with more people selling Christmas trees. By the first weekend in December, they have usually sold half of their trees.
The province’s largest and oldest tree farm is also the only wholesale Christmas tree operation in Saskatchewan. McKay Tree Farm has been operating since 1983. Geordie McKay, the only remaining founding member of the PCTGA, farms 180 acres of Christmas trees and distributes around 10,000 per year. By comparison, choose-andcut farms usually do business in the hundreds.
“All the Christmas trees that were coming in were being imported from outside of the province, so I started basically the first Christmas tree farm in the province,” he said.
A former land assessor, McKay (no relation to the author) started the farm as a part-time endeavour. Around eight years ago, it became his full-time job. He ships to more than 100 customers across the Prairies, mostly in Saskatchewan.
“We supply just about every town in the province,” he said.
That makes for a chaotic few weeks in late November because most of his customers want their trees around the same time. McKay contracts out semis to make sure the trees arrive in time. He also hauls some himself.
Despite the hectic pace, he said he enjoys growing trees.
“When we’re not crazy busy it’s a really nice profession. You work outside, there’s fresh air. Every morning I go to work the birds sing to me.”
GROWING INTO IT
On opening day of Christmas tree sales at Mason Tree Farm, the fields have been transformed into a winter wonderland thanks to several big snowfalls.
It’s still early in the season, but families are already making the trip, eager to have their pick of the best trees.
Leo Johnston arrives at the farm for his third year in a row. He’s there with his wife, his brother and his sister-in-law. Each couple has a two-year-old son. With the swishswish of little pairs of ski pants, they trek into the field, sleds in tow.
The families have chosen a beautiful day to mark the tradition. It’s sunny and just around the freezing mark. The snow cracks almost like ice under their feet.
Greer said customers still come when it’s -35 C, but usually they take cover in a vehicle until they spot a good tree.
The Johnston and Allen families laugh as they recall their experience at the farm in 2016. One of the boys was throwing up. The other had a tantrum. They’re optimistic this year will be better.
When they reach the best-looking trees, Johnston’s sister-inlaw, Jobel Allen, uses the “glove test” to decide if a tree is worthy. If the glove falls off the branches, it’s no good.
When she finally finds The One, she puts the glove on the top like a star to claim it.
Johnston says he hopes his son Jermaine will choose the tree this year. When the toddler zones in on a tiny, sparse, sad little fir, the dad changes his mind with a laugh.
There’s no barfing this year, but there is a tantrum. Tears quickly turn to laughter when Jermaine gets to help pull their tree back in the sled.
Mom Marissa laughs as the group makes its way back to the vehicles.
“It’s going to be a long walk back,” she says.
Inside the red barn, Mason takes a photo of an 11-person group in front of one of the trees. The couple proudly displays each family portrait on the wall and prints off another copy for people to take home.
Repeat customers, many of whom have several years of family portraits at the farm, are common.
“Often for teenagers in their mid-teens it’s not cool for them to come anymore. Then all of a sudden they’re coming back with their boyfriend or girlfriend to show off how it works. And then the next generation starts coming,” Greer said.
FINE FIRS
The process of growing trees isn’t always as magical as the end product. Like all crops, too much water or too little can kill off plants. In Mason Tree Farm’s neatly planted conifer fields, an occasional rusty red tree stands out from all the dark green.
These dead trees are perfectly shaped like their siblings but will never be the centrepiece of a Christmas gathering.
“That’s the really sad part, to see something so nice and so beautiful gone. If it’s been harvested, you know someone has enjoyed it and that gives us pleasure. The red tree doesn’t,” Greer said.
She estimates they lose 40 to 50 per cent of the balsam firs they plant. Even with shelter belts of bigger evergreen trees like lodgepole pines and blue spruce every 10 rows or so, the balsam is challenging. It also happens to be the most popular with customers.
Balsam make up three-quarters of their tree crop. Greer and Mason also plant white spruce and Scots pine.
Farming can be a pretty tough living. You’re always dependent on weather. In 2001, 2002 and 2003 we planted 30,000 trees and basically all of them died. It was so dry.
McKay, who plants near North Battleford, has had similar challenges.
“Farming can be a pretty tough living. You’re always dependent on weather. In 2001, 2002 and 2003 we planted 30,000 trees and basically all of them died. It was so dry,” he said.
Balsams are also his most popular variety, which he attributes to its stronger scent and long shelf life.
“It’s probably the best Christmas tree, in my opinion,” he said.
KEEPING IT REAL
McKay said the overall number of live Christmas trees sold each year has decreased significantly since he started. In the late 1980s, the PCTGA did a market survey that estimated the annual number at around 110,000. Today, McKay estimates that number is closer to 30,0000 to 40,000.
“It’s dropped off significantly, but now it seems to have stabilized,” he said.
In that time, McKay’s market share has actually increased. He said he has tremendous support in rural communities. Even though there’s more competition in cities, including from chain stores that import their trees from outside the province, McKay regularly sees return customers.
“People come back every year. Our customer base is really faithful. They know they’re going to get a good tree,” he said.
They say fake trees have their place, but the farmers all agree a real tree is much greener option.
“Most (fake trees) are made in China. They’re totally non-renewable,” McKay said.
“People throw them out sometimes after three to four years, they go to a landfill where they’re going to sit there for 10,000 years to break down. They’re using huge amounts of energy to ship them across the ocean. They’re not employing any local people. And they are phoney. The only thing good about an artificial tree is convenience.”
Greer said real Christmas trees also sequester carbon, making the air healthier. Because they are a crop, the trees are always replaced. She said two to three trees are planted for every one harvested. Most cities have programs to compost or mulch them after Christmas.
DEEP ROOTS
Greer is a librarian by trade. She spent almost 25 years as director of the Palliser Region Library. “Then she retired,” Mason jokes. Greer is quick to correct him. “I changed careers,” she says with a laugh.
Retirement isn’t in the plans just yet. Even if they don’t plant another tree, the couple has eight more years of harvest ahead.