Take a seat

I can't count the number of times I say to my partner while wandering in the garden: "We should have something to sit on just here." It's possibly indicative of my short attention span and the lazy gene I inherited from some distant forebear, but the fact is I like to sit down. I like to sit down for a breather, for a think, for a nap, to look at and appreciate some particular view, to plan something new, to talk to the cat, and to avoid whatever job I'm supposed to do next.
Our 0.8ha garden has seven official (that is, with seats) places to sit. Each has a specific purpose. The courtyard, enclosed by a wall and shaded by palms, is where we sit to eat, drink, read the paper and entertain. There's a table and six upright dining chairs.
The front terrace under the grapevine is where we sit to have a beer and cool down while gardening. There are two recliner chairs, an umbrella, and a view of the pond.
Down beside the stream there's a wooden sofa among the irises. We never sit on it because the base needs fixing and I haven't done it because I'm usually having a sit-down somewhere else.
Halfway down the garden there's a huge outdoor table and eight chairs waiting for a paved terrace to be constructed underneath it so the wine doesn't slide off the table. We sit there in the evening because it gets the last of the sun.
On the bank above the stream there's a wobbly old wooden seat under a wattle tree, which would fall to pieces if anyone sat on it. I keep meaning to make a sign for it: "Cats only."
In the orchard are two substantial wooden loungers which drive me nuts because they don't actually belong anywhere. He moves them every time he mows the lawn, and I move them every time he moves them.
Just outside our courtyard (in case I'm overwhelmed by inertia and can't make it in the gate) there's a blue wooden seat beside a port wine magnolia. We sit there to appreciate the scent, and to look at the progress he's made turning the flood-bank into a horticultural work of art.
There's also a simple wooden chair outside the garden shed on which he fondly imagines himself sitting to read a sports magazine, but never does. There's a cane chair on the deck of the studio that always seems to have a basket of washing on it, and there are the wrought-iron ends from an old garden seat behind the shed, waiting to be crafted into yet another seat which will be positioned to allow us to sit and watch the vegetables growing.
Yet somehow I still don't feel I've created the perfect sitting spot. So I've prepared the following checklist of requirements which we can ponder as we sit about wondering what to do next.
* Sight, sound and smell - if your garden sitting area can satisfy all these senses, it's a winner. So find a space with a nice view or a focal point, a scented plant nearby, and the sound of water from a fountain or water feature.
* Any successful sitting area, whether it's just for sitting or for dining, needs to be level. A wonky seat on a slope is unsettling, so flatten off the ground underneath, and either pave it, deck it, or edge it with timber and fill it with shells, gravel or similar.
* Make sure there's something gorgeous to look at. If there's no view, you have the perfect excuse for creating a new bit of garden with a stunning centrepiece, or buying an arty pot or a water feature.
* Give your sitting area a sense of enclosure. Not too many people feel comfortable without having something at their back. Position your seat against a wall, a hedge or in a circle of shrubs. If there's nothing existing, make a free-standing fence with a piece of trellis or, if your garden is rustic, interwoven branches and twigs.
* Convenient access. Having to gallop over lumpy ground through wet grass to get to your seat is not appealing. Make a path or steps, and tuck your seat just out of sight to give the impression of a secret spot. The best I've seen was completely hidden in the (very) long grass in a meadow, reached via a meandering mown track the width of the lawnmower. If you didn't know it was there you'd never have found it.
* Don't get hung up on having to have a real seat. If you want only to sit, an old board propped on a couple of concrete blocks will do the job. It's more about what you see, hear, smell and think than what you've parked your bum on.