Holidays Alight at Night in Arkansas.

This time of year, The Natural State is illuminated with fantastic shows of light from one corner to another. Want to see my favorites? Check this out.

Christmas Wonders at The Capital Hotel.

One of the most dazzling Christmas trees in the country, according to Forbes Travel Guide, stands in the lobby of the Capital Hotel in downtown Little Rock.  But it's not all you need to check out when you

head to the corner of Markham and Louisiana in downtown Little Rock.  There are lots of fantastic delights to be found within.

Even from outside, the Capital Hotel looks jolly, with evergreen boughs and gigantic pine cones in wreaths on just about any window.  More branches form a swag arbor over the entrance, where snappy young men are ready to steer away your car via valet (and if you go there to eat, it is free, just be sweet and tip, please).

Those white and brass doors open into a lobby full of holiday cheer, celebrating the season with extraordinary measures.

Those extraordinary measures include performances, such as this one Grav Weldon captured of the Fort Smith High School Choir performing on the stairs at the back of the lobby.



Musical groups perform throughout each December in the lobby here. The acoustics in this atrium are powerful and you can hear music clearly through every section of the two-story hall.

The decorations don't end with the lobby.  Boughs adorn hallways, smaller Christmas trees can be seen in corners in guest halls and every meeting room is adorned.  Small details are noted, such as the flight of nutcrackers on the first flight of stairs.

These nutcrackers stand at attention on the landing between the first and
second floors of the grand staircase.

Upstairs on the second floor, visitors can lounge and converse surrounded by
holiday trim and evergreen branches.

The second story balcony overlooking Markham is festooned with lighted trees.

Great glass globes in silver and gold are hung with care there at the lobby
bar just inside One Eleven.

Inside the entrance to the hotel, you'll find a gingerbread house large enough for the kids to enjoy.  Under the direction of Pastry Chef Matthew Dunn, elves crafted spun sugar into windows, structure out of Rice Krispy Treats and flour and sugar into gingerbread walls.  Piped icing details and handcrafted decorations complete the little house, surrounded by the largest lollipops you'll find anywhere.  There are even candy treats to try -- but don't eat the gingerbread house, please.

A fine chocolate-tiled roof complete with a chimney.

Amazing sugar-glass windows.

And of course, there's the tree... marvelous in its splendor, a 27' monarch that took six men to bring into the atrium and lift into position.  Click here to see what that looked like.

Grav Weldon used his special skills to capture the entire tree, no easy feat as photographers will tell you.

That should be on a Christmas card.

The tree is generously decorated with white lights, gold and gilded ribbon and hundreds of glass ornaments, from top to bottom.  It's impressive in not only its height but in its lushness.  This is indeed a regal Christmas tree.


But look closely.  In addition to the baubles and balls and fancy glass shapes that cover the tree from its base to its zenith, you'll notice some special ornaments.

Yes, that's a glass ornament of the Capital Hotel.

You may also notice a book in front of that tree.  It's a wish book, and if you have a Christmas wish, you can place yours there.  But you'd better hurry, since Santa will be picking it up right before Christmas Eve to take with him.

So while you have free time over the holidays, or if you're visiting Little Rock this Yuletide season, consider a drop-in at the Capital Hotel.  Oh, and grab a bite to eat, too.

You'll find the Capital Hotel at 111 Markham in downtown Little Rock.  Call (501) 374-7474 or visit capitalhotel.com for more information.

The Shrinking Tree and the Lost Ass.

When I was a kid, my mom made a point of always taking me down to the State Capitol for a tour to see the big tree and experience the holiday. I recall those visits with the wonder of a child, sure -- of a massive Christmas tree erected in the center of the rotunda, so tall it thrust up through the second level. It was adorned with all sorts of handmade ornaments from all over the state -- some were fantastic works of amazement created by our state’s finest artists. Others were the work of schoolchildren. I can even recall one year searching out and eventually finding an ornament I had a hand in -- I believe from one of my classes at Geyer Springs Elementary.

We started going when my mom was playing with the River City Band as one of the many groups that fills the rotunda with music through the month of December. In the late 80s and early 90s I had my own chance to perform there with Parkview’s high school band and choir, maybe even the Arkansas Youth Symphony.

In my head I always remember there being a massively large tree jutting up through that round opening on the second floor. But I’ve been challenging my memory lately since viewing this year’s display.

Beyond those bright brass doors, within white hewn marble walls that make the perfect backdrop for the stories-tall red sashes and the bunting of the season -- you’ll find this year’s tree.

The tree -- well, frankly, it’s much punier than I remember. Not that it’s a bad tree -- don’t get me wrong there. It’s a Leland Cypress donated by Dr. and Mrs. Robert Cole from Tom’s Christmas Tree Farm in St. Francis County. It’s gorgeously thick and a good representative of an Arkansas Christmas tree with its 75 ornaments representing each of the state’s 75 counties. But it’s not much larger than what the average Joe has standing in the corner of his living room this Yuletide. Humble, in fact.

I had to actually call my mom to make sure I hadn’t dreamed up the big tree. She confirmed my recollections. We both gather that since the tree is donated, maybe folks are just not donating the really big trees any more. I suppose I should do a little more research and find out why.

So, the ass. Years ago, there was a donation drive to bring in money for a hand carved wooden nativity for the State Capitol Grounds. This was back in the late 1980s… there was a booth at the Arkansas State Fair just inside the main gate where you could stop by, write down your name and address and put down money on what you wanted to donate your money for. Of course people put money on the baby Jesus, on Mary and Joseph and the Three Wise Men and the shepherds and whathaveyou.

My mom decided she wanted to make a donation, so she put her money where she figured no one else would be putting it. She put her money down on the ass.

A few weeks later, she received this strange letter in the mail from the group that was raising that money. It was apparent it was some sort of form letter, but still, it was odd to see the words “thank you for your donation to the ass.” Mom’s still got that letter somewhere.

Years passed, and Mom noticed the wooden nativity hadn’t been put up on the State Capitol Lawn. She wondered what had happened to the display. My mom works hospice, and one of her patients had a son who worked on the grounds, so she asked him if he’d look around and see if he could find out what had happened to it.

A few days later all heck broke loose in the news over the alternative display put up by the Arkansas Society of Freethinkers. The newspapers and the television stations all came out to the Capitol and did their stories.


It wasn't long before Mom got an article sent to her in an envelope. Inside was a newspaper clipping with a photo of the nativity scene with the notation “we found your ass!”

Shine On.

Contrary to my husband’s assertion, I am not a Christmas Nazi. He believes since I manage to haul out the Christmas tree about every other year that I’m obsessed with holiday music, Christmas card exchanges and the best Dirty Santa gift possible. He’s rather wrong about most of that.

I do admit, I love to bake for Christmas and will start in on that the first weekend in December, baking one loaf of banana nut bread after another until everyone in our social circle who wants one has their very own loaf. But I avoid Christmas music to the point of abandoning the stores during the holidays. I’m lucky if I get Christmas cards out each year and can’t remember the last time I was even invited to play Dirty Santa.

My one big joy is Christmas lights. I don’t actually partake of the phenomenom -- me, ladders, the roof and electrical wiring should never mix. But I applaud efforts all around. I also sometime feel a boggle of the mind comparing the daytime appearance of a home to its illuminated glory at night.

Nowhere have I ever seen does quite a great a job as Russellville. From Tanglewood to Skyline there are residents that do their best to share their holiday spirit by creating almost immaculate, imaginative yard decorations. I’ve enjoyed these ever since the early 90s, when I’d find myself delivering pizzas to homes in neighborhoods neatly outlined in luminarias, the oversized colored bulbs on the roofs carefully measured out for the best appearance from the street. In other neighborhoods thousands of lights in different colors would be strung over homes, trees and anything else not expected to be mobile in the month of December.

You think this might have been limited to the more upscale neighborhoods, but some of the finest displays I encountered were in trailer parks and in some of the city’s poorest neighborhoods, efforts by those who were probably spending a bit more on their electric bill that month than their budgets probably should have allowed.

We’ll drive up to Russellville at some point during the season to visit relations and friends and to take Hunter on a twilight drive through the same neighborhoods, to listen to her call out her surprise and wonder. My husband and I will giggle at each other, recalling our courting days in the River Valley town. It’s a family bonding moment I’m looking forward to.

Why, though, are we culturally inclined to love these tiny blinking lights and illuminations of the dark? There is a history of such things… The spread of tract housing in the 1960s seems to have brought the advent of the outdoor home light display -- which means I’ve never known a time when illuminating one’s house with tiny lights wasn’t considered somewhat normal. Eastern Europe saw its share of candle-clad trees (and I’m sure the appropriate number of Christmas tree fires) dating back to the 17th century, and the first electrically-lit Christmas tree appeared in the White House in 1895. But I believe this phenomenom might go back further to something primal, the desire to cluster around light and heat as the winter closes in.

But I digress. As a younger woman it was no weird thing for me and the hubster to drive all over a town looking for light displays -- we had more time than money and all we were spending was 99 cent a gallon gas. Age and parenthood has eaten our time. That’s why I’m thankful for events like the Holiday Trail of Lights -- the statewide effort to light up downtowns and neighborhoods so everyone can enjoy the show. You too can check it out at the Department of Parks and Tourism page. Knowing us, there will be at least one night here in Central Arkansas when we bundle up Hunter, curl up in the van and drive to Burns Park, through downtown Little Rock and up to the State Capitol, just to see the splendor and hear our little girl ooh and ah.