A Pinecone's Perspective
It was yesterday, or it might have been a year, or maybe a hundred more, ago. But it happened one day that a woman, upon seeing a wealth of perfect pinecones arrayed about strewn leaves, stopped to pick them up. Arms filled to the brim, she made her way home, delighted with her find. For on her mantle and her shelves, her cupboards and her counters lay green boughs in abundance. It was the start of Christmas, and all through her house, the smell of pine wafted about, though not until yet had there been cones. And there is no lovelier sight, the woman and I both agree, than pinecones amongst green-needled branches at Christmas. Why this is so is no mystery. The cedar boughs bring to mind the hay that lay in the trough at Christ’s birth and bid the Child welcome. And no fragrance is so sweet as the smell ...