McKynzi Bohnen

As a child I can remember holding a pinecone in the center of my two hands which were pinky finger to pinky finger, resembling an open book. I had picked it up because it was the perfect pinecone. All of its limbs were in place with no evidence of falling or weathering. It was not too big, it was not too small. The edges were not sharp but were defined which engaged my senses and somehow soothed them. Alone in my hand, the pinecone was so special.

Let’s make the little things count.

-McKynzi