You might think I simply appeared one morning on the Recreation Field — plonked down with a fine view across the field and told to get on with it. But no. I’ve had quite a journey. Pull up a patch of grass and I’ll tell you how a stack of logs became me.

I began life as a Sweet Chestnut tree in an English forest, quietly minding my own rings.

Then one day I was lifted, quite unceremoniously, onto a truck. Not that dignified, if I’m honest, but all part of the plan. At the yard, they milled me into planks: solid, honest lengths of timber destined for benches, boardwalks, and other hardworking bits of the countryside.

Then they left me alone. For two years. Air-drying, they called it. I called it character-building.

Once seasoned, I was moved into the Greenspace Designs workshop — warmer, noisier, and full of purpose. First came the artwork. I watched an artist sketch out the creatures and plants you can see carved across my back now: owls, primroses, moths, the Plough rolling above the hedgerow. Pencil first. Ink later. Every line a little story.

Then things got… intense. They suited someone up — honestly, it looked like they were about to walk on the moon — and blasted me with crushed garnet. Every masked-out shape became deeper and clearer until the whole scene stood proud in the timber.

Freshly etched and waiting for paint, I felt like a book before its first read. Then the black paint went in, settling into the carved hollows so the un-etched wood could shine against it — moonlight and shadow in reverse.

While all that was happening, my legs were being carved and shaped — long, sturdy things designed to sit deep in the soil so I don’t wobble about like a nervous spaniel. And my seat? Sanded to softness, its front edge following the natural curve of the tree I once was. No two benches ever look the same, they say. I like that.

Finally came the oiling, the assembling, and the moment the workshop fell quiet. I was ready.

And then — here I am. In Fownhope. Watching children race past, listening to dog-walkers swap gossip, welcoming anyone who wants a moment of calm under the night sky. The creatures on my back? They’re not decoration. They’re reminders of everything that thrives in the dark, if we let it.

So yes — I’ve travelled a long way to reach this little patch of grass. But it feels like home. And if you sit with me awhile, I’ll show you why.

Photographs © Greenspace Designs Ltd 2025.