Reporting from New York — Icy gusts streaked up the Brooklyn street, where at 2 a.m. the only sound was the "knock knock" of Toby Bishop pounding Christmas trees into plastic bases. A group of young revelers headed toward the tree stand, a pine-scented maze along an urban sidewalk with white Christmas lights dancing in the wind. Toby watched as they approached a towering fir.

A late-night sale in the making? No, just another group of drunks out for the night. They circled the giant tree, joined their hands to give it a big hug, and then moved on, leaving Toby to shake his head in wonder.

Such is life on the 24-hour Christmas tree circuit in New York, whose nocturnal character and paralyzing daytime traffic — as well as the urban dilemma of having nowhere to stash piles of trees after closing — make all-night tree sellers a seasonal necessity, as ubiquitous as the oddballs who turn to them at all hours for the perfect fir.

So who buys a tree in the middle of the night?

"Um, drunks," said Tim Romp, 14, who each year since birth has left home in Salisbury, Vt., with his parents, Patti and Billy Romp, to live out of a small camper between Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve and sell trees in New York.

Things have changed over the years. Patti and Billy split up last year, so now Tim works with his mother in Brooklyn while Billy manages his own stand at the old family spot in Manhattan. Toby, 17 — related through marriage to the Romp clan — joined Patti and Tim this year on the bustling avenue lined with small shops, a few chain stores and elegant apartment buildings.

But some things never change — sudden snowstorms, celebrity customers, bizarre requests — making life for all-night sellers predictably unpredictable. Not even the recession has had a major effect on business, said Patti, her 4-foot-10 frame buried in heavy boots, a lumberjack shirt, bulky coat and a furry hat with ear flaps. Her small radio played Christmas music as Tim, wearing a white cowboy hat, pulled an 8-foot-tall Fraser fir through the red tree-bagger, then balanced it on his shoulder and staggered down the street to deliver it.