A Hollow Seed Pod

I waddled deeper into the greenhouse until I found the low potting bench made of weathered cedar planks. Resting on a dusting of dry potting soil was an empty, brown lotus seed pod, full of round little pockets. I paused, taking in the quiet warmth, then gently pressed both paws against its dry wooden rim. It rolled half an inch across the rough timber with a low, hollow rattle, settling right beside a tiny zinc garden trowel. Sinking down onto the cedar board, I rested my paws over its ridged holes, listening to the soft rustle of palms swaying gently under the glass roof.