Out

Drinking on a park bench just doesn’t seem such a desperate act these days does it?

Instead of going to a bar, because we can’t, yesterday evening Cornflake and I went out for a pre dinner g and t in the shade of a tree, in the garden at the end of our street.

I wonder if the lockdown outdoor drinkers are pissing off the usual parks and gardens boozers. There are lots of us it seems, a city packed tight with people, the majority of whom don’t have a garden, locked down during a very warm summer with no where else to go, it’s no surprise we’re colonising the public spaces.

I’ve taken to taking a tin of something to the park late afternoon, early evening. I’m realising that an outdoor drink in a quiet place, is one of life’s great pleasures, not the small pleasure I’d expected it to be.

I have a favourite bench in a particular bit of the park.

The park has many types of space, formal, sporty, quiet, kiddie. They’re all well used. My bench is in an area that’s like a secret garden, it has a tiny entrance, a high hedged pathway that leads to a lawn with an ornamental pond. The pond is home to the statue of the mermaid wrestling a naked man’s leg. Every visit I try to think of a different story to match that scenario. Mostly I think he’s stolen the clams she collected for dinner and she wants them back. As to why he’d do this with no clothes on I’m not sure. I would have thought that in any confrontational situation a man would like to give his assets some level of protection. Not this guy.

Around the lawn there are alcoves cut into the hedges, each alcove has a bench. It’s a delight. While I sit in that beautifully manicured garden in the shade, tucked into a private space made of hedge and flowering plants, it feels like it’s all mine. When other people wander through I say hello, I’d hate them to think me an unwelcoming host. However, for the most part it seems to put them off.

Never mind.