Practicing a Little Garbology

Staying at home during this Covid Era has brought out the best and the worst in people, and my husband and I have seen a bit of both recently. Isolation is not for the human soul, to be sure, and we humans are stretching the limits put on us. Like getting in the car and just driving for no purpose other than getting in the car and out of the house. Like going out for ice cream and forgetting there is a mask on my face. Like walking in the southern heat and humidity.

We began walking last spring and have slacked off since the daily temperatures rose, and since a few outside opportunities came open to take up our time. Sadly, we've held off the daily hike except for Sunday mornings, seven o'clock, when we walk the mile and a half stretch (down and back) of a side road running near our house. As we walk, we pick up trash using what is known as a "standard trash grabber." He walks ahead, grabs the trash with the stick, and I hold open the bag. No physical contact and plenty of sanitizer, I might add.

Here's the picker-upper we use, and the picker-upper in use!

Through the months, we've noticed people are improving on the courtesy of not throwing litter out the side windows as they drive by our development. Week before last we barely filled one grocery bag. Yesterday, however, was a different story. Here's just one bag:

I'm a story catcher. What I don't hear first hand, I imagine. So as we pick up some trash, I can't help but wonder what the story is behind it being tossed away. Mostly I attribute an item's presence to lack of intelligence, caring or civic duty on the part of the litterbug. 

Other items, I'm not sure I really want to learn the story behind, like this empty bottle of lice elimination.

Or why this mattress was on the side of the road, no we didn't pick it up. So when the people arrived at the destination, were they shocked to find no mattress on the roof of the car? What would they do, drive back looking for it, or go buy another? Or were they just too lazy or thoughtless to drive to the dump in the first place?

Which leads us to begin questioning the story behind other castaways. The nearly full bottles of beer. What's up with that, a policeman on the bumper? The fast food litter. Where's the sense of responsibility? The cigarette butts. No comment.

An interesting find yesterday was a CD, not that it was an interesting CD. I didn't recognize the artist. Rather that it was the why. Why would a CD fly out the window. Was the passenger tired of hearing the same old songs? Why didn't the driver stop the car and retrieve it? What were they saying to each other? Inquiring minds (and story catchers) want to know.

 

Not fifty feet down the road, we found another CD? Or did we?

Not a CD, it's a mushroom. Nature laughed. It's still there. And so is the white morning glory that fooled us into thinking it was a wadded up napkin.

There is a science to studying trash. Garbology.

This discipline looks at how trash affects the world and all its assorted problems and solutions. It's also a modern archaeology science, studying what people throw away and looking at a civilization through its leftovers and left behinds. 

Trust me, people leave plenty behind. I could sure write a story or two just from what is in the trash we find. 

Catch of the day,

Gretchen