Where to sit? A 35,000 acre park has no place to sit except the ground or a fallen tree trunk. But…ticks chiggers. Be safe. Keep standing.  Bike riders have their seats, horseback riders saddles, atv and dirt bikers have seats. What about us hikers?

Manorville Hills is topographic paradise. I think it is not only one of the best open space areas in Suffolk County, but for all of Long Island.  Two features created by the ice can be seen here. The name of this type of landscape is knob and kettle. As ice melted a river of water filled with till piles up in one spot – a knob. A large block of ice breaks off, falls and is partially buried. When it melts, it leave a hole – kettle.

Suffolk County has created a park called Manorville Hills County Park. It is a vast undeveloped forest of hills, hollows and kettles. They established an entrance road, parking lot, horse trails, walking trails and bicycle trails. This is part of the New York State Pine Barrens Forest Preserve called the core. There can be no new development here. The purpose is to preserve the pristine water that lies beneath.

While I lived in Manorville, I often hiked in the park. When a huge Norway spruce tree toppled in my yard, I asked a tree surgeon to cut flat slabs that I could use for benches in the park. Thus began the bench project.

I found a large red cedar tree and decided to shaped it into two benches. On a hike in the “hills,” I discovered a small two acre meadow. I decided to place a bench there for visitors to sit and enjoy the peace and quiet of the meadow. The first time I sat there, I thought of Lorraine Dittko’s statement. She helps edit the local historical publication. During a conversation, she characterized the “hills” as a spiritual place. I agree and decide to dedicate the bench ato her. She was a Manorville Resident who died recently. From my point o f view, being in the “hills” is about as far away as the hustle and bustle of civilization as one can get. I feel part of a bigger picture. I feel part of the bigger picture. There are very few places where one can escape and become part of the bigger picture.

At one time, this meadow was farmed. The farming was short-lived because the soil has very little fertility. The farmer soon abandoned this project. The open land slowly evolved into a meadow. A few shrubs established themselves, but no trees.

The parking lot of the park was an open sand mining pit. Once the parking lot was fenced, a large open sandy space lay fallow. Since then, pitch pine seedlings have been planted and are thriving. Eventually there will be no evidence that open sand was there. Pitch pines can grow in sand.

My friend John, who is very familiar with this forest, helped me carry the first bench to the edge of the meadow. John hikes the area frequently and knows his way around. It is easy to lose your sense of direction. On several hikes with John,  I began to find places where a bench could offer passer’s by a good chance to sit.

I found a lovely hilltop (knob) that ought to have a bench. I made a two seated cedar bench and lugged it up by myself. I set it against a pine.  It is still there 8 years later. From this bench, one gets the chance to scan the forest from a high viewpoint. View scapes vary from season to season. Oaks in winter offer longer views because they’ve lost their leaves. The “Hills” have large swaths of primarily oak trees and in other places mostly pitch pines.

One of my fondest places is a white pine plantation. This is the only one in the “Hills.” The trees have an average diameter of 8 inches which means they were probably planted in the 50’s in an open meadow. The trees were planted too close together because when you enter, it’s much darker.  A trail was cut through this area. I saw a grotto that would be perfect for a bench.

II had two six foot sections left over from the dead Norway Spruce tree that toppled in my yard. I shaped them into benches and used two foot cross section logs as posts. I dragged them in and put one seat in the pines, and the other on the eastern edge. These benches have decayed and need to be replaced. Because the newest one is a replacement, I am compelled to  upgrade the older ones.

In a phone conversation, John said “Your meadow bench is gone.”

I decided to replace it. I called my hike partner and friend Mark, drew a plan for a substitute bench, and he volunteered to make two posts and help set it up.

We agreed on a date to install the bench. John met us in the parking lot. Mark drove is and the materials up the old Sperry Hill Road. We carried the pieces plus a spade, hammers, and nails to the meadow. I choose a new spot further away from the trail and we installed the new bench. This new and improved bench I will name “Lorraine’s Bench”

I was unaware of another place for a bench. John suggested we hike to it.  It looks down on a steep valley and is clear of understory shrubbery. Instead, a carpet of brown pitches pine needles. Ah, another view scape to take a break. This spot offers isolation and solitude where the only sounds come from overhead passing aircraft. Coming upon such a bench is an invitation to stop.

I brought along a map of the park and its trails. I asked John to pinpoint the location. “That map is no good.” The map looks like someone had dropped colored spaghetti on paper. I used a magnifying glass at home and could not locate the spot. I tried again and suddenly, the valley jumped out at me. I’ve never seen a steeper sloped and deeper valley on Long Island. Indeed Manorville Hills has some of the most dramatic topography on Long Island. There is a scarcity of wildlife and diverse flora, but plenty of hills and hollows.

The bench project reminds me of sitting on the bench as a substitute basketball player in high school. I kept thinking “put me in coach.” I have put myself in.