After fleeing civil war as a child, the 'mayor of the rail trail' in Hamilton uses rock art to help him heal

If it's a nice day in Hamilton, chances are good that Antonio Merino will be sitting at his special spot alongside the Escarpment Rail Trail.

His nook on the Mountain side of the trail, near the foot of the Margate Stairs, can't be missed – it's a solid 15 metres of sculptures and artwork made from painted rocks, fallen branches and other found objects. 

A curvy branch juts from a log, evoking the head and body of a swan. Painted rocks are everywhere, bearing messages supporting essential workers or in remembrance of people who have died. There's a row of sticks that have been painted blue to look like a pond, with wooden birds and alligators looking over it and a fish trapped on a line inside. 

"It's just a passion for me," said Merino, enjoying his home-away-from-home on a recent, hot-as-an-oven summer day. "It's a way to express without words. I did this all because I like to see a better world."

Tall wooden stakes hold up a tarp with two seats underneath it – one for Merino and one for the litany of guests who stop by for a visit each day. The densely treed area of the Niagara Escarpment provides plenty of canopy shade as well, with the little sun that is able to peek through the trees forming a speckled, cheetah-print of light on the forest floor.

Nearly everyone who walks by says hi to Merino, who has become a central part of the community that has developed among regular trail users. "He's the mayor of the trail," said one passerby. 

"It's really great to see somebody utilize the space, utilize found objects and just make it their own," said Laura Heaney, who stopped to visit while walking past with her dog. "My first impressions were that somebody had a creative streak in them and wanted to put it out there in the world."

Sandra France, who hikes past twice a day, says the spot has become a focal point for trail users.

"It's like a little community down here and this is the hub," she says. "Sometimes you've got to take a number if you want to be able to say hello to him because he's very popular and keeps everyone going around here."

Merino is 53, with a slight frame and gentle smile. His ever-present dark sunglasses are held on with a cord, and his dark hair is thick and cut short.

He takes pride in the fact that the space he's created brings joy to the people who go by, but he's also made pieces that hint at what is beneath his positive countenance.

"A man from nowhere, just giving hope," reads one. "Lost soul," says another.

"This is helping me to release my pain, my sorrow, and the horror that I lived in the past," he told CBC Hamilton. "When people say, 'The past is gone, yesterday is gone,' it all depends. Yesterday can be gone, but the horror stays. There are two choices: do you live in hell or learn how to live with the hell inside you?"

Merino was born in El Salvador, raised by his grandmother after his mother abandoned him when he was three months old, he says. The brutality and chaos of the civil war took over his life at age 10, its atrocities echoing in his head to this day.