A Rolling Pinecone

The patio screen door was left open just an inch, so I squeezed through onto the warm stone terrace outside. A round, brown pinecone was resting near a garden pot, and I couldn't resist giving it a gentle tap with my front paw. It wobbled, then rolled with a pleasant rustle down the slight slope of the stones until it stopped against a potted fern. I hurried after it, nudging it tuck neatly beside the damp terra-cotta clay so it wouldn't wander away. Being outside in the fresh breeze felt wonderful.