Can it be? Have the last vestiges of Winter finally drifted off to oblivion? Hardly. Hey, this is the Chicago area. We may have snowball fights in July.
In spite of that possibility, I’m looking forward to those above-80-degree days when I can take my lawn chair, sunscreen, and a cold brew and set myself up just south of the Santori Library of Aurora in beautiful Al Demeter Park, my favorite park out of the many fine parks in Aurora. Al Demeter Park has been overlooked by most Aurora-area citizens and, at this writing, there are no annoying docents giving guided tours. To many, the park may seem just a stark and desolate world, but it’s perfect for a hardy, fresh-air-and-blight-lover like me. If you haven’t seen it, the park area nearly defies description, but picture the surface of Mars without as much vegetation.
Once settled in my lawn chair, I’ll enjoy the warm, gentle, breeze and toss discarded plastic bags across the barren park’s rock-strewn surface, marveling as the bags occasionally catch on a scrubby weed before continuing on their journey to River Street. If I’m lucky, I may even see a small whirlwind of dust form and disturb the few geese nibbling through pebbles with hopes of finding something edible. I’ll enjoy the tinkling sounds this mini-maelstrom creates as it blows tiny pebble fragments across a discarded whiskey bottle or two.
Al’s park is the perfect environment for community events such as nude gopher wrestling. A statue might be a nice addition, maybe something subtle and simplistic causing in the observer a greater awareness for the need to care for our environment. Or maybe just a large bronze weasel.
There’s plenty of parking on River Street if you decide on a family outing. If you drive around the block a couple thousand times, you might convince the kids you’ve all arrived at the Magic Kingdom. If they don’t buy that, convince them they’ve arrived in New Mexico at the site of the first atomic bomb blast, which, once they leave the car, is more believable. Tell them the rocks they find may still glow in the dark, especially those resembling the profile of Millard Fillmore.
And don’t overlook the big rock, cornerstone of the park. The Al Demeter rock can provide hours of climbing fun for the kids, as long as they’re properly equipped. Adults can have fun on the rock, too, provided they’re in a liquor-induced stupor.
Later in my day of outdoor adventure when I cough and rub the dust from my eyes and the top of my canned beverage, saving the dust stuck to my sunscreened skin for later removal, I can reflect on how perceptive it was of the owner or owners to preserve the natural beauty of this area by designating it as a park in Al’s honor. Poor Al must be spinning in his grave or, if he’s still with us, at least wishing he had a grave to spin in.
But I’m not complaining. I’m all for keeping open spaces in their original state. I hope the Historic Preservation Commission will consider it for Al D’s. The only natural improvement I could see that would increase the park’s benefit to the city would be a 10-acre sinkhole. At least I’ll be able to enjoy the peaceful beauty of the park until some future new owner turns it into something useful if the sinkhole thing doesn’t pan out.