I Lodge Pole Pine cones can only open br under the intense heat generated by a forest fire.I br br Resting couched and cross-legged br by the hearth at Old Faithful Inn br I read of fire-scorched Montana br and my restive mind whirls back br a century and a half br when fire ruled at Yellowstone br and cracked opened Lodge Pole cones - br spilling seeds on the blackened soil. br br Youthful pines soared upward: br tutored by a hundred years br of showers, frost and sun br fed by leaf-meal and char. br br Then loggers came to notch their trunks br and send them arcing to the forest floor. br Carpenters fixed them to the wall br where the moose head stares me down. br br Montana pine cones open as I read. br The fires will cease and rains will follow. br New pines will rise to giant towers br then yield to the teeth of loggers’ saws. br br A gray haired man will enter br a lodge's rustic great room – br coffee mug in hand, br the morning paper br tucked beneath his other arm br and sit fire-warmed by a granite hearth br set in a wall of Lodge Pole Pines.