They start out on the sidewalk (of course I know they start out in a forest, but I'm taking poetic license here) and they end up on the sidewalk: New York City Christmas trees.
For the second time in about 6 weeks the sidewalks are filled with a fresh pine scent. It makes me kind of sad to see these discarded trees, some of them are so hastily gotten rid of that they are still decked with lights and tinsel, like a one-night stand, shoved out the door the morning after, still in evening finery (who among us hasn't toddled home in the too-bright early morning wearing green spandex pants and a rhinestone studded camisole?).
Like I said, a little sad, but the smell makes up for it.