A hollow rattle

I wandered deeper past the lawn until my feet touched the dry soil near the wooden garden bench. Lying in the dirt was a dry, brown seed pod, long and curled like a little wooden horn. I knelt down with slow, cautious knees and picked it up with both hands. It felt light and surprisingly sturdy. When I tilted my wrists, something inside rolled and tapped with a muffled rattle against the brittle shell. I gave it a gentle shake near my ear, listening to the secret tiny rhythm tucked inside.