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The greater good … slobs invade the Wyoming high country … wind farms: love ’em or loathe ’em …

It’s all for the greater good … isn’t it?

Carry around a bag of trash often enough and you’ll get your share of ‘the look.’

‘The look’ is loosely defined as a prolonged stare, a furtive ‘what the hell are you doing?’ glance or a shake of the head accompanied by a frown. One can only imagine the conversation inside cars: ‘Kids, that could be you if you don’t get good grades.’ That, or I’m deemed as someone who is not all there mentally.

IMG_2096This morning’s walk was no different. Hey, you deal with it. It just goes with the territory. Still, there is a hint of self-consciousness. No one wants to be seen as a total nut case. (I can live with partial nut case.)

I plod onward trying to convince myself that this plays some role in promoting the greater good. Just as those of you who volunteer at school, homeless shelters, churches, or in any other capacity, it simply promotes this idea that we can give of ourselves for the sake of others.

So if you see me trudging along Colony or Fairview Roads with bag in hand, it’s okay to stare. It wouldn’t kill you to smile at me once in a while.


Picking up trash at altitude

I spent a big chunk of July trekking with my son and other friends in the Wind River Range of Wyoming. The Bridger Wilderness to be specific. I love that place like no other.

While not as high as the Rockies in Colorado, the Winds offer views that are beyond

IMG_1937

compare. The sweeping vistas and rugged terrain combine to make for great hiking and, when you throw in incredible trout fishing, well, you really are living large.

Alas, even the altitude above 11,000 ft. isn’t immune to morons who leave junk behind. In theory, a hiker is to carry out everything they bring in, including meal packets and other residual items from their time in the high country.

Leave it to me to pick up after others. That included water bottles, energy bar wrappers, and bottle caps.

It would’ve been another matter if they’d left behind a #14 Parachute Adams, which I ran out of with a few days to go.


Wind farms: you love ’em or loathe ’em

Eastern North Carolina is gearing up to generate more wind-powered electricity.

The Raleigh News & Observer ran a story about more than 104 turbines – each 492 feet tall – already built that will begin to generate power by the end of this year to power online retailer Amazon’s data centers in Pasquotank County.

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This wind turbine west of Des Moines, Iowa is the sort of device that could generate electricity in Eastern North Carolina. I think people will, over time, get used to wind power. 

But some Southerners don’t cotton to the idea of massive wind turbines close to their property while others deem the generators as unsightly.

In fact, lawyers – lawyers! – are already taking steps to stop the turbines before they generate their first kilowatt.

“These are huge structures,” said one attorney. “They make noise, they cast shadows, they chop up birds, and they can be seen from miles and miles around.”

Okay, short sighted legal dude, give it a rest. Yeah, the big machines may not be optimal visually, but tis far better, in my view, to harvest this natural resource than keep gouging coal out of the ground or firing up another nuclear plant.

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 The greater good … slobs invade the Wyoming high country … wind farms: love ’em or loathe ’em …

  1. Dave, many years ago I found nickel as well
    as numerous food cans at 11,000 feet on a trail out of Pagoda Springs CO…no need for money at that altitude and carrying trash out obviously did not enter the minds of the hikers. We all need to do our art and you are an inspiration…

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