No Red Bench In My Garden

San Juan Islands, WA
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Get yourself a cup of tea or a shotglass of vodka, whatever you prefer, get comfortable and do me the favor of listening to my dramatic story about a Red Bench. I do not doubt that most of you can relate to it and many of you, my friends, have your own 'Red Bench' story. It could be actually not a red, but let's say black bench, or not a bench at all, but, let's say, a table, or .... Possibilities are endless. You get the idea. One day, you will tell us your own story, OK?

Let's start.
Several years ago, we were traveling to the San Juan Islands in Washington state. Beautiful place, I should say. Close to Canada and wonderful Vancouver Island.

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Roche Harbor. San Juan Island, WA

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Sightseeing, garden tours, hiking and, of course, just looking around at how people live and tender their gardens in this enchanted part of the earth.
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One of the tour gardens. Beautiful garden and friendly owners. San Juan Island, WA

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Historic Hotel De Haro. San Juan Island, WA
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Once, on our way to the next landmark, I spotted a bench on the lawn in front of a small house. A magic sign announced that the bench was free. I am not saying everything that is free is magic. If it would be an old washing machine or dryer or even an antique lawn mower, it wouldn't get my attention. But, it was A Bench, something that I could put in my garden. Something I could lie on and take an afternoon nap.

Something I could sit on and admire the products of my labor. I don't mean the labor that produced two blue-eyed boys 11 years ago, but a labor of love. Of course, those two boys also were a product of a labor of love, but I mean a labor of love of nature. Of course, .... Well, you understand.
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San Juan Island, Washington state

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Enough about love. Back to the bench.

The bench, obviously, was not new. I could see some signs of wear and tear. But, it was made from thick, massive pieces of wood, and it was freshly painted. The color was red. True red. I can not say that red is my favorite color. There was a time when I used to buy mostly plants with red colored blooms, but it was in the past. Red was OK for a bench. It could be a bright spot in my Terrace garden, a stylish splash of color, an exclamation mark in the midst of the greenery of my black currants. "I like that bench!"- I said. The driver, who happened to be my husband, made several runs pass the house whose owner was so generous in giving away that wonderful piece of garden furniture. What he saw, obviously, was different from what I saw. He saw a piece of junk which someone threw away. He thought the owner was looking for an idiot who would take away that junk, saving him a fee which he would need to pay for having it hauled away. Trash collecting service is pretty pricey on islands, I would guess.

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View from Mt.Constitution. San-Juan Islands, WA

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What is an island? A piece of land surrounded by water.

Here, you can not dump trash in multiple dump sites which we have on the Big Land. There is just not enough space on an island to dump all the old benches, washing machines and retired vacuum cleaners. Knowing this, my husband said: "OK, we'll pick it up on the way back".

We could fit the bench in the back of our SUV right then. But, he was sure that nobody, absolutely nobody, would put an eye on that delapidated, miserable piece of old wood. Or, maybe, he hoped that I'd come to my senses while admiring the charming, fresh scenery of the island and surrounding waters.

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Roche Harbor. San Juan Island, WA

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Well, for this or that reason, we left the bench where we found it.
Several hours later, my husband realized that he was wrong in his assumption. I was not the only idiot who wanted the red monster. The bench was gone. It was taken by someone who, probably, like me, used to watch HGTV programs about trash being turned to treasures, about magical finds on the side of roads, who was drooling over the stories told by their friends about treasures discovered in trash containers behind home furnishing stores, etc.

Anyway, the bench was gone. Even before I opened my mouth, he was sorry. You don't want to know everything what I said then. The main point of my speech was that I liked the bench and that it was FREE. It didn't cost 10 dollars, it didn't cost one dollar, it didn't cost even one cent. It could be mine for free. It could make me happy, and my happiness wouldn't cost even a cent. "Did I offer to buy a $ 6,000 outdoor furniture set from the Horchow catalogue?"- Questioned I? "No! I wanted a free bench and you wouldn't pay even a penny for it". Actually, I didn't need to say anything. He was already suffering. He regreted a thousand times that he didn't stop and pick up that ugly red thing. I suspect that it was not even the bench itself that he didn't like. It was the fact that he would need to get out of the car and, under the ironic eyes of the whole world, take something abandoned by another person.

To make this story shorter - he fell bad about that red bench for a long time. Images of the Red Bench were hanging in the air around us for several months. To heal my wound, a bright turquoise bench was bought and brought to our garden, but it was not the same as the red bench.

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It was not red, and most importantly, it was not free. It was not a subject of my pride, it didn't have a story behind it and it lacked the excitement of finding a treasure on the side of the road.
The turquoise bench is OK. It glides, it's comfortable and I take a nap on it in the middle of the day. At least, until a crew comes along to mow our neighbors' lawn.
You, who managed to read my story til this point, thanks for your patience. I hope it brings closure to my Red Bench story.
Just in case - if you are the one who picked up that red bench, let me know when you'll be ready to put it on the side of the road with the sign FREE. I'll be there the next day!
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P.S. Already, after I finished this post, I found the picture below. Hey, it might be the folks who picked up my bench! They say they take everything!!!
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Copyright 2010 TatyanaS