BENCHED – Taking a Walk Sitting Down

Every summer, it seems, opens Sally’s and my hearts to a few new discoveries, new experiences. This waning summer has been no exception. Some of these new finds are things most folks wouldn’t find the slightest bit stirring. Yet for us they’ve become treasured parts of our daily routine.

A block and a half down East River Parkway one of our neighbors has installed a bench in their front yard, at the edge of the public sidewalk. Quite unlike the occasional bench the city built along the walking/biking path across the street—some of them dilapidated and facing neither passersby nor any view but the thick stands of invasive buckthorn right in front of them—our neighbors' seating is placed very thoughtfully.

             It’s under the leafy umbrella
             of a mature horse chestnut tree.

LOCATION, LOCATION, etc.
They could have put it on the ample boulevard, between the sidewalk and the street. That would have set sitters a bit closer to the steep, wooded slope down to the Mississippi flowing below. But it would have given priority to views of soulless sedans and SUVs passing by.

They could have placed the bench ten or twelve yards further west, in more or less the center of their stretch of sidewalk. But that would have put it in full sun during some parts of the day.

No, these thoughtful folks put their gift to pedestrians right next to the sidewalk, where one can interact with neighbors—and their social-lubricant dogs—walking past. And it’s way over in one corner of the yard, under the leafy umbrella of a mature horse chestnut tree. (Amazing, isn’t it, how cozy and sheltered a tree can render the space it overspreads.) The bench is also right next to a flower bed.

     If it takes being an old man to value such
     languor, I must be aging faster than I thought!

SOUL BENEFICIARY
“Our” bench has become kind of a focal point of our daily walk. Even though its location falls far short of what should be the terminus for a healthy, two- or three-mile walk, what it affords our souls outweighs what a longer walk might do for our hearts.

We love stopping there. (Sylvia’s now learned the word “bench,” and automatically stops and lies down next to it.) We sit, she jumps up in Sally’s lap, and we just chill and observe the usually lazy pace of life as it flows past us. And, since we’re both fairly busy most days, it’s also one of the few occasions where we get to enjoy each other’s full attention.

“Benching it” has become another of what seems like an ever-greater number of our activities that stand out for their sheer simplicity. Hey, if it takes being an old man to value such languor, I must be aging faster than I thought!

Nearly as pleasant as the well-placed bench and Sally’s and my conversation is meeting our “hosts,” Lynn and Rahul, who’ve happened out to visit with us a couple of times. They’re very nice, and are among the few people we ever meet these days who actually seem to care who we are as much as they expect us to care who they are.

We’re trying to think of an appropriate gift we could leave for Rahul and Lynn to say thanks for their putting out “our” bench. What do you think? A small coffee table? Maybe a footrest?

Do you have a special place or activity, one that might seem ridiculously simple, where you can pass a little time just quietly observing, allowing Nature and neighbors—and perhaps a dear friend or partner—to nourish your spirit?