A Pinecone on the Cobbles

I pushed past the front door screen and took the gravel path leading toward the garden gate. After being indoors all yesterday, the cool morning air felt wide. On the pale stone border, an open pinecone lay tipped sideways, rocking slightly whenever the breeze caught its stiff scales. I stopped three paces back and watched it rock twice. Then, stepping close, I lowered my front paws firmly onto its woody tip. The scales gave a muted crackle and bit into the soil, planting it perfectly upright between two rounded stones. It does not wobble now.