Then a better thought occurred to me as I looked at the heaps of soft—toned burrs. “When we're in the city in the winter, we’re always longing for the sights and smells of the forest. We’ll take all we can of it down with us.” My girl friends laughed at me, but they lent themselves readily to the task.
No doubt the squirrels and chipmunks were much surprised at our continued activity. What could we want with the empty cones? I hope we mystified them as a punishment for their greediness.
We. gathered the most perfect cones of each variety, roaming the woods for days in our hunts. We stripped the cedar of its branches of bright green moss. We gathered sacks of slippery needles from the fragrant pine, and still more fragrant fir. We gathered cedar boughs laden with blossoms, and huge blocks of bark from the redwoods.
We pricked the swollen globules on the bark of the smooth firs, and filled bottles with pure balsam. We ordered beautifully grained cedar boards from the lumber-mill, and made each of us a cedar chest to hold our treasures.
Rifling of the Forest by Mary Powell