named bench · vii · against the hedge
An elm-plank bench at the very back of the orchard, set so close to the boundary hedge that the hedge has begun to grow over its back rail. Two coats of green paint, both flaked to bone, and on a few of the slats you can see the outline of where a third coat was begun and then for some reason abandoned. The legs are slate; one is half-sunk. The bench is, by the small angle it now sits at, leaning very slightly toward the field beyond.
The view forward is the hedge itself — hawthorn, blackthorn, dog-rose — and the patch of sky between the hedge and the lowest branch of the last tree. The view back, if you turn, is everything you walked past to get here: nine other trees, four other benches, the gate, the house. The hedge is full of small busy lives and the bench learns to be quiet enough to hear them.
It is sat on by the one who walked past every other bench — the visitor who needs the far end specifically, the solitary, the person who arrived at the gate already meaning to be alone. They think about how long they will sit before turning round, and about the field beyond the hedge, which sounds different from inside the hedge than it does from out in it. They mostly stay longer than planned.
field-note a thrush has nested in the back of the bench three years running. the third slat from the right is, by spring agreement, not to be leaned on.