Slow Motion Riders Fly the Colors of the Day

I used Saturday's glorious weather to visit Mohegan Park on what I believe to have been one of the ten best days, weather-wise, we've had all year. Judging from the numbers of people I encountered at the picnic tables, the beach and on the walking path around Spaulding Pond, I wasn't alone.

You remember Saturday-light breeze, low humidity and high clouds? Walking around Spaulding Pond, I'm always intrigued by the canopy the tall trees, mostly oaks I think, form over the pathway, sometimes completely obscuring the sky above while on the pond banks, maples and what we used to call poplars where I grew up, hug the shore.  Intermingled of course are also pine trees which I'll notice more as the colors of the leaves on all the other trees start to change.

Everyone I met in Mohegan were very friendly, much more so than when we cross paths elsewhere, but in fairness that's as true of me as it is for them. Perhaps that's why we go there-to recreate and to re-create ourselves, our hearts and our souls.

I always take peanuts with me to feed the chipmunks and squirrels I may encounter. On my first pass around the Lakeside Pavilion on the path that forks nearest the pond, my way was blocked by a squirrel who darted in front of me, halting for a moment and then racing two more steps ahead until I finally bribed him with a peanut. I was surprised he didn't scamper away but waited until I gave him a second peanut.

Satisfied, he gathered them both up and darted into the woods. On my next round, I had two squirrels waiting for me. Blabbermouth. I paid my toll and they let me pass. Farther along, I spotted a dad and his two sons, one about eight the other closer to three, fishermen all. The father explained the younger one loved to fish but didn't like to hurt the worms they used as bait and was content to dangle his naked hook for hours just as long as he was near his father and brother.

Elsewhere, walking in the opposite direction, I came across a trio, eyes averted, with a medium sized bag of what looked like bread in small pieces but since there are signs depicting Canadian geese with the admonition "Don't Feed the Wildlife," I knew they surely wouldn’t have.

I couldn't help but notice a raft of ducks in the pond quietly shadowing them at a discrete distance as they hiked, all wearing tee-shirts reading "Not a Canadian Goose." In both English and French (or not).

I almost got to be a wedding guest as nuptials were moments away from beginning as I made my exit. I smiled watching the happy guests arrive and applauded the couple, whoever they were, for the reward of their faith in the elements when they chose an outside ceremony. They and their guests could reflect and relax in a perfect setting on a perfect day.

-bill kenny