Cracking the Scales

A dry, woody pinecone sat wedged between two terracotta flowerpots on the balcony rack. I gripped its prickly crown with both hands, gave it a firm twist, and pulled it free into the open air. Its stiff scales spiraled tightly around the core, but when I pressed my thumb hard under one curved ridge—snap! A crisp wooden flake popped off, exposing two tiny papery seeds tucked underneath. I let out a sharp burst of chattering and immediately went to work, flicking my thumbs against scale after scale until a neat pile of brown chips littered the shelf, beaming a wide, toothy grin at every click.