A Walk In The Park

A few days ago we visited a park in a town we happened to be staying at for a few days. It was one of those beautiful well-maintained parks with a variety of plants and flowers and trees which you could admire and enjoy, if you are that way inclined.

The park had a very interesting feature new to me. Every so often along the path there was a bench for you to sit on and admire a special plant positioned right opposite.

Nothing unusual about that, you may say. But wait. As you sit on the bench a voice emanates from your trousers and it tells you all about the plant or bush you are sitting in front. It tells you what the plant is called in English and Latin, where it originates from, and various other facts you probably did not care to know about anyway. The voice emanating from the seat also told of the wildlife in this park, what kind of birds have been spotted and such other interesting facts which you may, or may not, wish to know. Let's face it ... I go to the park, unwillingly I might add, just to be with the family on a day out. Not to be lectured by talking benches.

It was uncanny, every time you sat on a bench this voice told you all it had been programmed to say and then after ten minutes it would start again; unless you happened to stand up and walk away.

It set me thinking, hitherto, the only sound that came out of people's trousers, or dresses for that matter, bore no resemblance whatsoever to a human voice. But all this changed with these new style benches.

Whose idea, I thought, was it to hide little speakers on these seats which are somehow triggered into speech as you sit on them. And what happens when it rains, for instance? Do they gargle their message or just shout, "I'm drowning here!"

I sat on one of these benches opposite a red leaved bush and the voice kept on repeating ad nausea, "Hello. You are looking at the photinia red robin bush ...." and on and on it went  about this plant I'd never heard of before nor wished to hear of again.

As soon as the voice stopped talking it repeated again, "You are looking at the photinia red robin bush ...." which was not strictly true because at  that moment I was looking at some strawberry jelly which fell from the doughnut I was eating and onto my lap. I must say I never heard it called a photinia red robin before! 
   
But believe it or not, these benches were very popular. People kept rushing from one bench to another and plonking their backsides hurriedly to hear the voice speak to them.

In order to participate in the fun, and to prove that I too can be light-hearted at times, I did try a few benches myself. I moved nonchalantly along the path looking left and right as if I were a plant expert and then, as soon as I reached the next bench, I sat hurriedly to hear what it had to say to me.

All went well until at one bench I sat down quickly without looking and instead of the familiar dulcet tones through my trousers I heard a female voice shout at me, "You idiot. You sat on my prize cactus!"

I'll admit that I got up faster than the sound of her voice could travel. The stupid woman had placed on the bench a cactus plant that she'd just bought from the souvenir shop. The plant had come out of its plastic pot and was totally entrenched in my trousers. The pain was out of this world!

I suggested we retrieve the plant and put it back in the pot; but the woman walked away saying some unrepeatable things which I will not repeat here.