named bench · iv · orchard, west tree
A single oak plank on two log-rounds, set under the lowest sweep of the second tree from the gate — an old Bramley by reputation, though no one alive has eaten one off it for forty years. The bench is older than the present plank; the present plank is older than the present reader. Lichen on the underside in three colours, including one green that you only see if you tip the bench up, which nobody does.
The view, looking up, is the canopy in whatever season you have brought: blossom, leaf, fruit, bare. Looking forward, the next four trees and the gap where the fifth was. Looking down, your shoes, and whatever the tree has dropped on them. In autumn an apple comes down within reach every twenty minutes or so, and the body learns to listen for the small click of release before the fall. The orchard behind is going its own way.
It is sat on by the reader who has come out from the house with a book and the intention of not finishing a chapter. They think about the tree more than the book. The cook sometimes sends a child with a bowl, and a windfall or two arrives back at the kitchen the longer way round. A drawing of this tree exists in the sketchbook on page forty-one.
field-note the second slat once had a knot the size of a thumbnail. the knot fell out in 2003. the hole is still there. so is the slat.
orchard apple tree sketch apple tart far end of the orchard west garden bench