The largest Christmas tree - Telegraph "My brother and I started selling Christmas trees from the family farm when we were young," he explains, as we whizz between trunks on his quad bike with Connie and Lottie, the family's wire-haired pointers, lolloping behind. Eventually we just got rid of the animals. He gestures at a clutch of grand firs, their branches so dense that the sky is almost completely obscured. This used to be a flat field where we kept cattle back in the Fifties. We planted these on a Good Friday - they've got 10 years in them yet. We are trudging through acres of long grass peppered by clusters of trees. There are green-black bushy firs with trunks more than a metre across, trees with tall spindly branches, blue-tinged needles and young sprigs with yellowy leaves. Every so often, we come across an oversized, red "Sold" tag dangling from the lower branches (it's like being a Borrower in an impossibly large garden centre). "Sold to Hard Rock Café," reads one label. "Sold to Newbury Council," reads another. Among the farm's high-spending customers is a man who arrives by helicopter from Gloucester every year to collect 10 trees for his estate. "That's the one," pronounces Geoff, striding towards a monstrous fir. It's Covent Garden's tree. He points a hand-held computer at the top to measure its height. I can normally tell just by looking at them. Depending on their age, they grow up to 18 inches a year. I would love to grow lots more 50- and 60-foot firs. Firs as big as these require round-the-clock care. Geoff uses fertiliser to ensure they have the right nutrients (trees that are short of nitrogen can turn a yellow), and sprays them to kill off aphids, which eat into the leaves and bark. "With bigger trees, you get a sort of contained ecosystem, where everything takes care of itself - the ladybirds eat the aphids, and so on," he explains. Poaching (a spate of Christmas tree thefts hit British farms last year) and wildlife can also be a problem - but not here. There are deer running through the trees and lots of buzzards. It's not like some woodlands where there's nothing but darkness and dead, brown needles everywhere. To ensure that his firs grow into "storybook Christmas trees," Geoff prunes the branches every month. They look healthy enough but have his trees been touched by the fungus known as current season needle necrosis (CSNN), which has affected half the British Christmas Tree Growers Association's 300 members? This isn't a new thing. It may be worse this year due to the weather conditions, but it hasn't had a significant impact on us," he says. We grow 15 different species and CSNN affects Nordmann firs, which aren't our biggest seller anyway. CSNN aside, this year's soggy weather has produced one of the best crops for decades. Last week the growers" association reported that trees were proving "extra lush" and "full of moisture," meaning they omit a strong pine fragrance. As we wade deeper into the treescape, we meet Nigel Hutchinson, in charge of cutting down Covent Garden's tree. One of six full-time workers on the farm, he is crouching on a pile of sawdust beneath a tree. "In the weeks before Christmas we're ready to work whenever, whatever, no questions asked," he grins. But when you're under a tree, soaking wet, and you've got needles down your trousers, it's not what I'd call fun. Once it's been felled, the tree (hitched up by a chain to prevent the branches from breaking) is dragged through the forest on a digger, before being put through a wrapping machine, which encases it in string. Geoff's machine, imported from Michigan, is the biggest in the world. "We're a sad lot," he admits. We've been around America to look at the tree farms and see their products. They know everything there is to know about Christmas trees, whereas we made it up as we went along. Next stop for this tree was a lorry heading for London, where it was due to be put up by Living Props, a Buckinghamshire-based set-dressing company. "The creative process begins early in the year," explains Ben Bigland, production director at Sculptivate, the design team who decorated the fir. Oversized ornaments are necessary for the larger-than-life tree. "The scale is presented from a child's perspective," says Bev Churchill, Covent Garden's brand director. "We hope it delivers the Christmas 'Ah" factor that everyone wants at this time of year." Geoff Gilbert won't be making a trip from the farm to see the finished tree. You do get a bit sick of Christmas. My wife has a saying: 'Always Christmas, never Narnia. You lose some of the magic. But surely, being the owner of a Christmas tree farm, he can at least pick a perfect fir to put up at home? "No, no," he demurs. I usually choose our tree late in December - we take whatever's left on the yard. My wife once picked one early and put it out on the front porch. He laughs. Three days later, I sold it. realchristmastrees.co.uk