A Gentle Seed Maraca

I hopped out into the yard and scrambled onto the low wooden plank of the garden potting bench. Tucked right beside an overturned clay pot was a dry, papery seed pod shaped like a tiny boat. When I nudged it with my plush paw, several little seeds shuffled inside with a crisp, hollow rustle. I cradled the curved husk between both paws and tilted it gently from side to side, making a soft, rhythmic rattle that felt like a quiet song just for the afternoon.