I’m really not sure what this garland’s function is, where it’s from, who made it, or what they used. I actually have two of them (both seen in the in situ photo). They’re maybe 4 feet long, with two strands of twisted twine sewn through each…pod? leathery something? They produce a lovely light rattle when moved, reminiscent of the tone of a rainstick though with a different mechanism, and while I first thought that was indicative of seeds in pods, I peeked into one that has a small hole and it looks more like tiny stones?
The twine is whiter than I am used to seeing (i.e. hemp or flax) and has broken in a few places (I don’t know if this was originally one garland). The texture of the pods reminds me a bit of leather, but they’re stiff rather than supple. They’re strung in such a way that there’s some graduation of size going on, but not noticeable until one is taking photos for a blog post.
I found them in the trash (atop dry items). They came home with me because they combine a sense of history and connection (someone made/strung them! possibly for a purpose! and they’re either old or worn, given their fragility!) with a very organic shape–the double-string production method means they also like to drape themselves into shapes reminiscent of double-helixes–and natural feel. The light sound they make is a minor bonus; if they were less fragile, I would be very tempted to hang them on a door or in a window for more aural fun.