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AWOL no more … but litter is still there because ‘that’s the way it is’

Yeah, the routine of picking up litter and other junk has resumed (shown is a shade over one week's worth of toil) and my oath is more frequent posts to promote the idea of path-side stewardship.

The lengthy hiatus from anti-litter posts is over; I’ve been AWOL in that regard  and will apologize for it.

What’s not over is picking up trash. The daily grind of picking up and disposing of junk has gone on uninterrupted. Slobs haven’t seemed to take any time off so I won’t either.


Part of my missing-in-action excuse is that for a big chunk of the fall I was in France and Spain hiking the Camino de Santiago; indeed, my last post was laudatory about the cleanliness of Spain.

IMG_4967

Yeah, the routine of picking up litter and other junk has resumed (shown is a shade over one week’s worth of toil) and my oath is more frequent posts to promote the idea of path-side stewardship.

In the very near future I’ll back away from that somewhat; the Camino was an absolute mess, a total disgrace in terms of bottles and wrappers and junk cast aside. The route of the centuries-old pilgrimage deserves much better. It’s not the Spaniards at fault but the pilgrims themselves.

But for now, there’s hope that I’ll settle back into the swing of things and start to post regularly (once or twice a week at most). I’ve been picking up trash on a daily basis but too lazy to show you the sordid results.

This morning’s 5:45 a.m. jaunt in a cold, light rain was testament enough to the staying power of slobs who continue to defile my daily route. An oft-repeated phrase will be repeated again: I just don’t get it. Why do junk-a-holics do what they do? When I returned from Europe there was just so much of ‘it’, just so much trash and refuse all over the place. The euphoria of a world-class walk gave way to litter-induced depression. But as the late Walter Cronkite used to close his CBS newscasts, “and that’s the way it is.” Indeed it is.

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 AWOL no more … but litter is still there because ‘that’s the way it is’

  1. Jess Benningfield // December 9, 2017 at 3:54 pm // Reply

    Glad you are back and enjoy the inspiration ( and grumblings ) !

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