The Loneliest Pinecone Part One

Around three o'clock this morning I went for a walk around my office building so that I could wake up a bit and feel the cold. It was nice and chilly and fairly quiet. The moon that was waning from its fullness the night before still spilled faint white light around with the orange of the city lights.

I turned a corner walking towards the little hill with a single tree at the top that I've often sat under and enjoyed a break from the office, enjoying the wind, the sun, the grass under my hands. In my path was a dark round silhouette belonging to a pine cone that had fallen from one of the trees. During the summer they were all over but on this cold night it was all alone under the dark sky, just like me. I was the only one that knew it was there, and it was the only one that knew I was there.

I picked it up and sat under the tree, cradling it in my hands. My finger tips could barely touch if I put a hand on top and bottom. I listened to the soft wind, felt the cold on my cheeks. I saw a pair of coyotes on the street, staying out of the bright street lamps. I whistled to the closest one but it didn't come. They regrouped and divided again and I got up and continued my walk, listening behind me to see if one would follow me.

Holding my loneliest pinecone in one arm I walked, enjoying the stillness of the night air. I turned around for no reason and saw one of the coyotes 30 steps away looking in my direction. I crouched down to see its shape against the glowing concrete better before continuing my walk.

Near the windows of my department's office a small rabbit ran from me and hid in the sharp shadow of a bush. I told him not to worry and watched him stay perfectly still, the white lights of the office showing pink through his vertical ears. I told him to watch out for the coyotes down the street and walked on, listening to my steps.

I placed my pinecone on the hood of my truck as I walked by, reasoning that if it was still there after work I'd take it home. Work ended and it was still there, waiting for me. I put it in my passenger seat and drove home, singing songs by my friend and others, occasionally putting my hand on the loneliest pinecone when turns were sharp.

One exit before my house I had a whisper of spontaneity and decided to take my pinecone to the park a couple blocks north of my house. Maybe that's the reason why he was waiting there for me. It'd be tough for a lonely pinecone to travel 25 miles southwest on its own. I quickly exited and headed for the park.

- BuddhaDave

Later today, Part Two! And you should really check out this wonderful commercial.