Wherever the fir tree falls in the historical transition in religion from solar monotheism to other systems, including Christianity, for me the December holidays have always had to include Christmas trees as an essential part.

In Pittsburgh, since we came here in 2001, the beginning of the holiday season has been marked by the unveiling of the trees at the Carnegie Museum of Art. The tree at PPG Plaza gets put up before Halloween, which detracts from its mystique. It is frequently necessary to be prepared to freeze to death to go look at the big one at the Point.

Decorating the trees at the Carnegie with love and imagination is the work of the Women's Committee of the museum. This year they were helped by students of the Western Pennsylvania School for the Deaf. The theme was Children's Poetry. According to me, they outdid themselves.

There are five live trees. They are huge. They are lavishly decorated -- but not over-the-top. Each one is a study in itself, worth standing in front of and circling attentively. Each one is based on a poem or a poetic figure.

My favorite -- and here not only do I risk retribution by the other four groups of decorators along the lines of Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction," but also charges of American neo-fascism -- was the tree based on Longfellow's "The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere." Decked out in red, white and blue, with a replica of Boston's Old North Church on top, it even had under it a large horse with a sparkling tinsel mane.

A second tree was based on Edward Lear's "The Owl and the Pussycat," featuring those two critters in a boat, with the owl playing a fiddle. This tree also had an astonishing bird, the turkey -- who married the owl and the pussycat in the poem -- reportedly adorned with real turkey feathers. The tree was swathed in pink chiffon and included a butterfly. Regarding the marriage of the two, we won't even go there with a Supreme Court nomination pending.

A third tree, perhaps closest to modern classic tree decoration, was smothered in snowflakes, with a sleigh and blue lights, a tasteful, sophisticated blue. I could hear Eartha Kitt singing "Santa Baby" as I imagined a Manhattan skyline in the background. Eartha wanted for Christmas a sable coat, a convertible and a yacht; reminded me of Rep. Randy Cunningham, the Dukester.

A fourth tree was based on the -- ostensibly -- children's rhyme of the early 1700s, "Sing a Song of Sixpence." The scroll giving and explaining the text also provided the fact that, although the poem sounds benign, it may have had when it appeared a double meaning, more along the lines of some of the gorier reality television, based on some of the practices of Blackbeard the Pirate. Parents can judiciously stop reading at that point, directing their little dears' attention instead to the charming black birds under the tree.

The theme of the fifth tree was the man in the moon. It has an enormous kite, with a dramatic tail, and seven cows under the tree. In addition to "the cattle are lowing" mythology attached to musical accounts of Christ's birth in the manger, cows add a restful pastoral touch to any tableau. If we could adopt a bovine, cow-like approach to some of what is going on in the world, we would probably be better off, during the holidays and in general.

All in all, the trees at the Carnegie offer something special for everyone, for kids from 1 to 92, to crib from "The Christmas Song." Don't miss them.