Same tree today. The bracts are brown and papery, the cones dotted with globs of sap. Over the next few months , during the winter windstorms, they will be torn from the tree, yet none will find a fertile forest floor where seeds can be dispersed and buried. Instead, some cones will lie in wait on the sidewalk as decoy dog-doo, causing pedestrian panic-dances. Others will roll into the gutter and clog the storm drains. I believe this to be an example of the evolution of spite.