The Floating Pinecone

I stepped past the low iron gate and walked along the winding gravel path until reaching the edge of the stone park fountain. Clutching the soft folds of my blue blanket firmly against my cheek, I peered into the shallow, clear pool. Resting in the dry seam of the curved ledge was a small, tightly closed pinecone. With deliberate care, I extended my free hand and pushed it over the rim into the water. It dipped beneath the gentle surface with a soft plop before bobbing straight back up, floating upright like an anchored vessel upon the calm ripple. It is comforting how naturally an ordinary forest seed finds its footing, even when adrift.