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.
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.