It may be work, it may be play, it may be near, it may be away. So here is the challenge - to shoot and post one photograph a day on this site. These photographs are a kind of diary of things I find interesting. I am also thinking that there will be days when I am unable to shoot, so on those infrequent occasions, I will post a photograph done on another day, but one that still feels important to me. - Ken Spencer
Monday, July 6, 2009
In the Garden
When I was at my sister Joan's house in Connecticut for the birthday party, I found this wonderful seat in the garden. I think it is not her garden, though. She is really friendly with the family next door, and Joan uses the neighbor's horseshoe set, as she did for the party. I went over to see the game, and discovered this wonderful garden seat. Some years ago I did a photo essay on garden benches, and wish I had known of this one to include. I love the look of the surface, with the silver-colored wood, and the moss.
Dad had a saying. “Do it so it lasts.” When I was young, I thought he meant I should take my time building things, like the bench he made for Mom.
ReplyDeleteMom said she wanted a few boards nailed together so she could sit and enjoy her flowers during the fleeting New England summers. Dad loved the idea because it gave him a chance to make something from almost nothing and to use the tools he loved so much. Dad got out a scrap paper and in two minutes sketched a garden bench that included dimensions. He showed it to Mom, and she nodded. She didn’t want anything fancy, but she knew better than to try to stop him once he got started. “He’s going to do it so it lasts,” she said, almost to herself.
I watched Dad as he carefully picked out the wood he wanted from piles that were neatly stored in the shed. He looked each piece over, like he was picking out diamonds. I was getting impatient, watching his deliberate selection of wood. “Why are you taking so long, Dad?” I asked. “Do it so it lasts,” he answered.
I’d heard that saying all 12 years of my life. It seemed like it was Dad’s response to everything and while I rarely talked back to him, I was feeling annoyed at how slow things were going. With a bit of attitude, I snapped, “Dad, you say that all the time.”
My father stopped what he was doing and looked at me, a sparkle in his eye. “Yes, I guess I do. Know why?” That startled me. I realized I’d just walked into some kind of trap! I shrugged my shoulders and looked up at him. “Why?” I asked, understanding that my father had been waiting for this moment.
“Because you want things to last,” he said, still looking over the pieces of wood. “Maybe you’re too young to understand now, but when you’re older, you might remember what I’m telling you. “ He stopped inspecting the piles and turned to me. “See, no matter what you’re doing, whether it’s making new friends or learning in school or finding a person to love and marry and even raising children—you need to always put forth the very best effort you can muster,” he said. “Take your time and don’t be afraid to work hard at whatever you’re doing. But most important--remember that whatever you’re building—a relationship, a career, a hobby or anything else worthwhile--it can be there forever if you do it so it lasts.”
It took Dad almost all summer to build the bench. But when it was finished, Mom set it out in the garden, and she enjoyed using it for many, many summers after that. Like Dad’s lesson, it’s lasted a lifetime.
I was all set to add a comment to your blog this morning until I read the message from "Anonymous". I decided immediately that I couldn't top the account of how this bench came to be and what it means to have things last! Thanks for the photo!
ReplyDeleteWow, wow, wow! You have outdone yourself with this one. What a great phrase: "Do it so it lasts..." And a wonderful story to go with it. Many thanks.
ReplyDelete