In the chill of early morning, as Sugar and I make our morning business trip, I am shivering and draw my sweater close about me, tucking the collar around my neck and holding it in place with my chin. Sugar dabbles about, sniffing this spot and burying her nose in that clump of grass. I tug her leash impatiently, but she has no interest in hurrying. She is determined to thoroughly explore the world to uncover new and interesting activity since last she was out. I wonder what she is learning. I am positive there are deer, possum, birds, other dogs, cats and maybe a fox or two who have left their calling cards.
As I shift from one leg to another, waiting for Sugar's investigation to end, I glance up at the pine tree near my car. Wow! It is loaded with baby pine cones. Some of the branches are so loaded down that they are sagging dangerously close to break point. The entire tree from lower branches to the tippy top is covered in cones. What a banner crop. I have never seen so many baby pine cones before.
Sugar finally is on the move and we head down the road. Now my interest is peaked and I stare at all the different pine trees. About every other one sports a coat of cones dangling like fringe from every green branch. They are tiny now, but once they grow, these trees will be laden more than any decorated Christmas icon. And I suspect the brown patch beneath the branches will be littered with juicy squirrel crudites. I can almost picture the little critters sitting on their haunches nibbling away like some elite food critic, detecting every nuance of the cone seed overtones and undermusks.
Right now, though, I need to quit counting the cones and get my frigid self back inside where I can thaw out! And perhaps investigate why there is such a bumper crop of cones this year. Any ideas?
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