… yet Winter seems to go on forever.
Fall has always been my favorite season. Yes Fall, tinged with gorgeous colors, tantalizing tastes and smells and, of course, that welcome, gentle nip to the air, qualities that no other season can rival (in my humble opinion anyway). And, as I was preparing this post, I realized I should have savored my November 13th walk even more than I did at the time – how could I know that non-stop wintry weather was on the doorstep?
This post is a continuation of my long stroll through Downtown Trenton and Elizabeth Park, wherein my first stop was at the City’s newest mural “Unravel Your Imagination” the subject of my December 28th post.
Out with the old; in with the new … season-wise, that is.
After spending considerable time both admiring and photographing that whimsical mural, I meandered along West Jefferson Avenue, enjoying a picture-perfect day. I was mindful of the mishmash of holidays, i.e. the harvest season mingling with the holiday season, as the latter waited patiently in the wings. At that time, Fall, like many of the tree leaves, continued to hang on forever.
The few remaining scarecrows from the City’s annual Scarecrow Contest …
… had survived the incessant wicked winds we’d had, some still sporting an endearing grin.
But I guess this guy wasn’t gung ho about the contest as he wasn’t smiling.
There were jewel-toned mums, pumpkins and other gourd displays, like this one.
The flag was snapping in the stiff breeze, at half-staff in recognition of former Vice President Cheney’s passing.
In between the harvest vibes, a few shopkeepers’ windows were already festooned with Christmas décor. Of interest to me was this young woman bundled up to ward off the chilly wind as she painted. She was painting the front window of the Trenton Dance Studio. I stopped and asked if I could take a picture of her artwork, then we chatted it up.
Chelsie is a local mail carrier and her daughter takes lessons at this dance studio, so every year she paints a Christmas theme on the studio’s windows in conjunction with the City’s business district holiday window-decorating contest. Chelsie told me the decorated store windows look festive for the annual Christmas parade along West Jefferson Avenue.
This was her partially finished gingerbread house.
Chelsie had already painted the snowwoman with ballet slippers on the front door.
I told her I was dabbling in watercolor painting and asked if she had taken formal classes around here. She said she was self-taught, adding “my grandmother is a painter, so I guess it’s in my genes.”
Later I returned just as Chelsie was wrapping up her painting project.
I wondered how the studio’s front window fared in the contest and learned from the studio’s Facebook site that it won first prize! Congrats to Chelsie! Here is a photo of all their windows at night.
I kept on walking, heading toward Elizabeth Park and, as I approached the vehicle bridge to enter this island park something stopped me in my tracks.
The seasons of life.
Just ahead of where I stood, I believe I saw my future self.
An elderly woman approached from the opposite side, both of us equidistant from a large tree on a homeowner’s property near the bridge. There is an incline with some uneven pavement and the woman was using a rolling walker. The wind tugged at her open coat and grabbed wisps of gray hair, whipping them around her face. She pushed the walker against the wind, occasionally thrusting it forward to lend extra “oomph” for that slight incline and she mumbled aloud, likely cursing the wind. There was a large paper bag on the walker’s seat and, after securing the walker in place, the woman planted her feet firmly on the sidewalk and called out. I could not understand what she said – perhaps she was not speaking English? Then she was speaking so loudly that I realized she was calling out some names. Ahh, the beneficiaries of her bag of goodies – these squirrels had names!
A passel of squirrels came rushing toward her, scrambling down trees, racing up the leaves-strewn Canal shoreline, then scurrying across the homeowner’s property. There were probably 30 or more squirrels gathered around her. I hung back, thinking of photographing the scene, but instead watched it unfold. She unrolled the paper bag and began scooping out handfuls of peanuts in the shell, flinging them this way and that. The squirrels were tripping over one another to retrieve the goodies.
It was a scenario, well-known to me, as you all know.
The large paper bag which had been full began to empty as I saw her hands disappear further into the bag each time. She kept throwing peanuts out to the waiting “crowd” just like a queen holding court with her faithful subjects.
I ambled over to speak to her, eager to share that kindred spirit I felt we had, but she would have none of my attempt at conversation, still busy with the task at hand. She was speaking to them, calling them by name, mumbling if she dropped peanuts onto the ground, then finally she turned the bag upside down, signifying “no more” to them.
The squirrels may have lingered – the old woman did not. Mission accomplished, she grabbed onto the walker and gave it a push. I smiled and ventured a timid “well I do this too … feed the squirrels I mean” but my words fell on deaf ears, so I departed as well and headed to Elizabeth Park, where I soon would be surrounded by that park’s squirrels, who beg incessantly, secure in their good fortune of an endless stream of peanuts merely by looking cute. All year long, many folks drive along the circular drive while launching peanuts to them from their open car window.
As I watched the squirrels romping in the leaves, these ten geese congregating, …
… a goose stomping angrily toward me on the park grounds, …
… even occasionally giving me the side eye …
… my mind kept wandering, returning to the elderly woman doling out peanuts. Would that be me in a decade or two, pushing a rolling walker around Council Point Park’s perimeter path and calling out to squirrels, many generations removed from the original squirrels I began interacting with in 2013 when I started walking there?
I stepped onto the Boardwalk, sun glinting off the Detroit River, providing some warmth to my upturned face.
A few seagulls departed when they saw the whites of my eyes but then one seagull came along that appeared to crash land into a huge Boardwalk shoreline boulder, but he recouped and flew away before anyone of his brethren saw him … but you and I did.
The water level in the canal was quite low, which didn’t surprise me since I’ve seen this phenomenon at every shoreline where I’ve walked in 2024 and 2025.
I crossed the picturesque bridge …
… and meandered along the Northpointe River Walk where I noted many more leaves carpeted the grass there.
As I prepared to exit Elizabeth Park I noticed the park flag was flapping briskly – I later learned the gusts were about 25 mph (40 kmh) at the time I was walking in Trenton.
The elderly woman was gone now and a solitary Fox squirrel remained, casting me, a/k/a “the intruder”, a wary eye.
It turned this way …
… and that …
… then finally took the peanut to go.
Yes, I was the interloper that tried to intrude on their routine, even though I was not that close to them. This squirrel reminded me of my sweet Parker, not only in looks, but how he would not tolerate another walker who waylaid me on the perimeter path, thus delaying dispensing of peanuts, so he’d run over and stomp on my shoe, or try to scale my sweatpants. Once he jumped like a pogo stick to reach the bag in my hand.
As I drove home, I thought about the changing seasons and the old woman with her squirrels, equating it to the seasons of my own life and pondered on that subject long after my stroll on that exquisite Fall day.
Terri’s Challenge this week – it is “Ten” – you can find it here.
Linda Schaub
WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY 