When we found you on the sidewalk, and I wondered what sort of life you had endured so far. What story could you tell?
There you were, aloft in a tree, minding your own business, dealing with squirrels and few birds, but life was probably pretty solid. Then one day it wasn’t. You landed on the sidewalk. On your head. And there you were. Some of your relatives joined you. On their heads. I bet that was the easy part. After that, there on the ground, you were basically bait. Kicked around by some rollicking second grader, sniffed by a dog, or worse, and overlooked by nearly everyone.
Not being a forester, I have to guess that if you are lucky, a pine cone gets to toss around a few seeds, maybe start a family, but chances are, at least I assume, your main career option is to rot. But not this time, buddy. We scooped you up, stashed you a pocket, and made a photography project out of you. Dude, you have officially gone digital! (You could go viral, but since you aren’t at Walmart with your underwear sticking out or doing something amazing like saving a dog from a burning building, viral probably is not going to happen.) When this project is over, we will put you on the window sill with all the other rocks and twigs and odds and ends I drag home. Eventually, however, you’ll end up in the compost bin.
Yeah, sorry pal, no matter what, rot is ultimately the best thing you can hope for.
Ann James Joles