My honey and I were waiting for a light on Washtenaw yesterday when we realized we were under observation. Two whitetail deer were watching the humans go by. Or, at that moment, not going by. We the people stayed in our enclosed vehicles. The deer observed from comfortable positions on the sidewalk, doe and large gangly youngster. The weather was a bit drizzly, but the deer seemed to think it was a fine day for people watching. They stayed right where they were when the light turned green, and waited for the next exhibits to arrive.
On a drizzly walk earlier in the day, I’d found myself shoulder-deep in wildflowers, in a rain garden on Prairie. That garden is deeper than most rain gardens, and the flowers are taller than I expected. Light purple asters with goldenrod accents lured me in and surrounded me. The plants turned out to be shoulder high and thriving, thick and tall. Walking the allee of blossoms–the purple popping the way it does on overcast days—was like a brief encounter in an alternate reality.
We’ve had some beautiful weather recently, with skies that deeper blue of fall in Michigan. Sumac and euonymus are turning red. Maples are coloring up, too, especially leaves on the south side of trees. Groups of maples take your breath. Soon folks will be stopping to photograph the maples at the corner of Plymouth Road and Huron Parkway. They do, about this time every year.
It was a beautiful day for a celebration of life on Saturday. Kay and Dan Long had been married for fifty-nine years when Kay died last month. Both Longs taught music in the Ann Arbor Public Schools until they retired. Dan survives and leads a volunteer orchestra, “just for the fun of it.” We lost more and more of Kay to dementia, toward the end, but she loved Dan and she loved music till she breathed her last.
The memorial service was upbeat and musical and packed. St. Clare’s shares a building with Temple Beth Emeth, a Jewish congregation. Beth Emeth’s retired cantor sang the twenty-third psalm in Hebrew. The congregation sang hymns from the hymnal, and there were reminiscences of Kay. The most moving moment, though, was Edelweiss.
Allison, the music therapist from Kay’s hospice said Edelweiss was Kay’s favorite. Allison sang it through once, accompanying herself on guitar, her voice clear and strong and unprepossessing. Then she invited everyone to join her, and we did. St. Clare’s is a musical bunch, and the Longs were and are beloved. It was a good sendoff.
On Wednesday, my sweetheart and I had lunch at Zou Zou’s. They make terrific sandwiches there, and attract a diverse clientele. The whole front of the café is windows looking out onto Chelsea’s Main Street, which is also State Route 52. Big trucks trundle right through town more or less constantly, and we had a great view of the passing parade.
Semi loads varied, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary until a truck went by with components of a carnival ride. Followed quickly by another. And sometime thereafter, two more. Everything after that seemed pretty normal, until a big truck went by pulling an odd trailer. It was as big as a semi load, but the top was more roof-shaped, for lack of a better description, and it had at least three doors on the side. People-sized doors, not, say, horse-sized doors.
What could that be? Housing for seasonal workers? I had to call Don. He knows all kinds of things.
“It might have been for movie people,” he told me.
“What are movie people?”
“Remember about twenty years ago, they were shooting a movie next door?” I remembered no such thing. Don and I used to work together and saw each other every day. That stopped about twenty years ago. Now I have to ask questions to find out what’s what. Apparently, I had failed to ask him if a movie were being made next door.
He said it was one of the Stab movies, and had to explain that, too. “They filmed next door, and about two hundred movie people stayed at our place. The stars stayed in a trailer like the one you saw, but it only had two doors.” Each star stayed in half of the trailer, each half coming complete with bathroom.
“Did they take the trailer off the semi, or just leave it up there?”
“Just left it up there,” he said. So there’s your answer.
The deer on Washtenaw watched us. We admired the trees. And Don explained the trailer.
Life is interesting.
2 October 2026