Let’s talk about pine cones.
For one thing, size doesn’t matter.
At present, the tallest trees in existence are coast redwoods, which can attain
a height of 350 feet. Yet the redwoods produce cones only about an inch long
for the distribution of tiny seeds—about the same size as a tomato seed.
In my section of the woods, ponderosa
trees produce the “big-daddy” cones. They’re durable, industrial-sized, and
generally as big as a grown man’s fist. The local fir, spruce, and lodgepole
pine produce far smaller and considerably more fragile cones.
Many of the ponderosas near my house
have produced an abundance of cones this year. I find them beautiful in their
symmetry and appreciate them whether hanging in the tree or shed upon the
understory.
A ponderosa cone is built to both
protect and distribute its seeds—and it does so with prickly authority. The
outer scales are thick and armored, each tipped with a sharp, recurved barb—a
cat-like claw. These barbs form the tree’s natural defense system, deterring
animals from prying open the cone before the seeds fully mature. Handle one
long enough, and the claws are bound to snag you.
When mature and dry, the cones open
in warm weather, their scales flexing outward to release the winged seeds—each
capable of spiraling away on a puff of wind. In cooler, damper conditions, the
cones close again, guarding whatever remains inside. This simple,
temperature-driven mechanism helps the tree time its seed release for the best
chance of success.
I’m sharing a photograph featuring a
Cold Smoke beer (as a size reference), a ponderosa pine cone (the larger one),
and the much smaller cone from a spruce tree.
—Mitchell Hegman
No comments:
Post a Comment