A Pinecone on the Slats

I stepped outside and took an easy walk over to the neighborhood park to get some fresh air. The wide gravel path was peaceful, so I ambled over toward a big green wooden bench sitting beneath an oak tree. Resting on the weathered slats was a small, dry pinecone that had dropped down. I climbed up onto the bench, sat down cross-legged beside it, and gently rolled it back and forth between my palms to feel its prickly scales. Setting it upright near the edge, I nudged it with a finger to see if it would wobble without tumbling over. It held its ground nicely, making a quiet midday resting spot feel complete.