I noticed the other day during a quick stroll up the Port Orchard waterfront that our bench is gone. Not to say that it was in good shape to begin with. Someone had left a smoldering cigarette or the like in the armrest and burnt the support post almost all the way to the ground. It was still usable but not so picturesque so I imagine that's what made the city pull it. Take it out, sure, but not replace it? That I don't get.
I suppose that the city has some grand master plan for the waterfront. I know that they refloored the observation deck on the other side of the marina and pulled the picnic table that sat there, too. Let's just chaulk that up to beautification. But as far as not replacing benches, maybe it's a case of the city not wanting us to sit in any one place too long. Lord knows what kinds of talk or thought can go on when you're sitting looking out over the water on a pretty day. Might make you do crazy things, like frolic or skip or fall in love. Can't do that. Must some some sort of ordinance against it.
You and I, we've put in some serious bench time around the county and the region. I think you can fairly say that betwix a handful of city parks in Bremerton, the ferry system, that school yard picnic bench in Snohomish, the bench outside of Campbell's, the rough but handy cement settee at Pt Definance, the bench we glanced at but tossed aside in favor of my ragged old patchwork blanket that day at Loyalty park and that one moonlit pier bench in Gig Harbor that our bottoms have graced more than our shared of publicly paid for sitting devices. For that I am glad. Beyond glad. Happy to the bottom of the rivits on my blue jeans.
And while some benches may go away, like those there at the marina in Port Orchard, there are others out there that are still going strong. I know that whenever I get a chance I do the waterfront walk there in Ruston and I love to stop and see where we sat and watched the boat traffic go by the night of the last Calcopo. I love to stop and walk the waterfront at Point Defiance, too, if only to see if I can see a seal or two like we did on the fabled day, the 27th of August. I know that whenever I fry up chili rellenos I think of the stop we made at the park behind the Cash and Carry store, that quiet little spot we took in between work and home, a place that was brand new to both of us. Then there was that rainy day where we sat in your car instead of on the bench in front of us, if only so that we could talk longer and not go home looking too sopped and silly.
Benches were our hallmark. How many times did we sit outside the branch and talk, knowing that our talks were soon coming to an end? How many secrets did we tell each other under that Oregon Maple, on that ferry seat that cold December night, on that bench in Snohomish while we ate our way through those fabulous box lunches provided for us by Lil of Pave fame? I know that we landed in Lake Chelan that night and had but a moment before we had resume our library identities, but we sat and contemplated our day on that bench outside my room which solidified our love that evening. It didn't take a word, again, not too much differently than the day we cupped and handed over our hearts under that maple tree in Sumner. One thing I can say for certain, and this is after a long contemplation on one of the surviving benches in Port Orchard, is that we never gave those hearts back. Beat them all to hell but we retained them. I still have yours here in safe keeping. Pity The Detective.
So know that whenever I wander I'll take a minute and sit, look out over a vista, take a break under an ample shade tree or just set down my bags for a moment and rest. And when I do I'll think of you, of you and me and that wild clematis in my back yard, the day after you came back from Denver, the day we sat on my raggedy old bench and bonded, exchanged kisses and talk and small gifts. The bench may be on it's last legs, but that geode you gave me that day is still around and gracing my mantlepiece. I can't haul benches around with me but I can sit on one and think and know in that thinking that you, too, must rest every once in a while, rest from your labors and dogma and pursuits of integrity and love of God and think of days where you were loved unequivocally, loved with no strings attached, loved for being just you, because you shared with me your heart, your sweetness and that general overall love of life that you embrace so dearly.
I may not find you sitting on one of those remaining benches outside the branch anytime soon, but I know where to look for you. If I look closely I can see you cross the water...yeah...there you are...
Love, Your WHMB
No comments:
Post a Comment