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A thanks to unsung heroes …

My friend and sometime photo contributor Sherry, in her own inimitable style, gave me a gentle prod last week.

She called me out for my unceasing bitching about slobs – while never giving a pat on the back, let alone a thank you, to those who do their part to put litter in its place.

Sherry is right: I'm not in this alone. There are others - you, maybe? - who are part of the movement to simply keep our paths/roadsides a little cleaner.

Sherry is right: I’m not in this alone. There are others – you, maybe? – who are part of the movement to simply keep our paths/roadsides a little cleaner.

She’s right. I’ve done nothing to compliment the unsung heroes who pick up their paths or stoop to pick up a bottle or can for proper stowage in their recycle bin. Sherry is one such soul, my friends Bob, Richard, Tom and John are others.

So let me correct a gross oversight right here and now. If you’re someone who has selflessly (and anonymously) done the right thing – even if it’s just every so often – let me tip my omnipresent ball cap your way and say my own ‘Thank you.’ It’s not just me that offers that, it’s the general populace that is better off for what you do; it’s the general environment that is prettier and less hazardous to wildlife and humans, and it’s the overall notion that we can simply do better in terms of how we manage our resources.

So thanks again.

About Dave Bradley (264 Articles)
I was a writer by trade so one would think letters would come easily for me. It is so now, but wasn't always that way. Indeed, the first letter was written the Monday after Ellen started her freshman year in college. For years I've wondered - with no good answers - why I swiveled my office chair toward my computer screen to fire up a word processing document for that first letter. I just don't know. I just did. Perhaps it was the angst of separation or wanting to say things that had gone unsaid at that moment when we parted ways in front of her college dormitory. What was a one-off became habitual. When her brother Reid enrolled in the same college, his name was added to the salutation line. They were kids then and are adults now. No matter. The letter writing habit remains so today. I live in Brevard, North Carolina. I'm well away from where they live and don't see them nearly as often as I'd like. That's why letters, at least to me, fill the void of distance. The pages give me something to say and the space to say it. There is no assurance they read the letters; indeed, I have never asked if they do so. With the pace of their busy lives who could blame them for letting a letter sit unopened? Over time, it has dawned on me that the letters are both communicative - and cathartic. By nature, letters are about the writer; the writer can only write about their situation. Perhaps that is as it should be. It's all about the here and now from one person's perspective.

1 Comment on A thanks to unsung heroes …

  1. bob Furstenau // December 31, 2014 at 7:23 pm // Reply

    Dave, Thank you and Happy New Year. Picking Up My Path is easy…not much on it…2 miles each way…way less than a plastic bag full and not interesting at all. I think you need a App called PickUpYourPath. Check out this article from the Des Moines Register today…

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