Thursday, March 5, 2009
Condemned by the gods to be frustrated, I roam the woods daily looking for trash. When I 'm there regularly, I follow a plan of patrolling different areas of the woods on different days. One day for example , I'll check the fallen tree trunk where kids meet to get stoned. That area is usually strewn with Gatorade bottles and other litter including the little plastic envelopes the pot is sold in. Nowadays, kids around here roll their pot with the sweet smelling flavored tobacco of small cigars that are sold in foil wrappers. I know this because if I had a nickle for every one of the cigar wrappers I pick up, I would be able to pay for all the gas I use riding back and forth to the park. Another day, I check a little hiding place near the back of the woods facing the tennis courts. Apparently, this is used as a lover's lane judging by the number of used condoms and ripped clothing I find. Yes, I use gloves! Last month due to the cold, I saw a drop off in the amount of trash I normally find, so I began searching other areas. It's endless. I've uncovered whole new areas that look like they haven't been cleaned in years. So, just like Sisyphus whose punishment it is to roll his boulder up a hill only to have it roll back down before he reaches the top, I wander the hills of the park thinking perhaps I've cleaned everywhere there is to clean and I can finally rest and enjoy the scenery, only to find another area covered in beer cans or other messes. What keeps me going you may ask? I'm afraid to stop. I'm afraid to stop because no one else is doing this. I'm afraid one day some future Parks Commissioner will say, "The place is a dump. Let's sell it to a private developer and make the city a big profit". Don't let that happen. This place was given to us to nurture and protect.