I was invited to pick a cone from the Cedar of Lebanon in the garden of Fairmead Cottage in High Beach where John Clare spent three years as a patient in Matthew Allen's private mental asylum. The tree has beautiful glaucous needles. Clare had an individual, almost human, relationship with trees, this one can't have failed to make an impression on him.
I had never seen a cone like this before. There is a Cedar of Lebanon that stands back from the road on a farm in our village. I've always loved its distinctive shape but haven't seen it at close quarters. I have read that these trees can suddenly shed huge branches for no apparent reason. That explains the changing silhouette of the one locally.
I left this cone on the work surface. When MrQ returns in the early hours from a gig he likes to have something sweet and a tot of whisky. He saw the cone and thought it was chocolate. He was going to lick it but didn't as he wondered whether I might have bought it for Jazzy and also it looked a bit mouldy. :)