A Knobcone Pine in the Palisades Fire

The crackling snap of shattered wood was troubling, though most of those folks had been dead for decades; beds, tables and beams quietly surrendered to the blaze.

It was the screaming palms that pierced the heartwood. In firestorm winds their long spines arched backward, heads crowned with flaming fronds, each tree a torch passing fire to the next.

But we knobcone pines have dropped our cones. The heat has burst them open,
scattering winged seeds to ride the wind.

We were shaped for fire. Our children will rise from the ash.

Ali McLafferty is a writer and artist who would like to be a tree.

A Knobcone Pine in the Palisades Fire was a finalist in our Annual Drabble contest to capture the year that was 2025 in 100 words.