September 29, 2009

It’s Goose Day in Lewistown! And I’m torn between writing about the National Parks series on PBS and what I found in the park this morning when ol’ 85 Pounds o’ Love and I took our morning constitutional.

On the former, let’s say I like the pictures. I find the story interesting. But I am distressed by what seems to me to be an extremely high ratio of white male experts. Surely SOME women have written about the subject?? (I think I’ve seen two in over four hours of program.) And I had to laugh at the mention of the Sierra Club dividing over a park issue (because I know they were either misguided or misled when they opposed Joe Pizarchik’s nomination). Nice to know they didn’t always support John Muir either.

On the latter, I’ve written before about people dumping stuff. A lot of yard waste is dumped in the park at the top of our mountain; I’m assuming it comes from the city side of the mountain since on this, the country side, people have enough land to keep their own yard waste. But this morning I found two boxes of metal items—wires, pieces of equipment, bolts, and I don’t know what all—shoved into the woods ever so slightly at the edge of the park. I dragged it out so as to be visible, and much to my distress found a pile of paint cans back behind it (a separate dumping, I would guess). Pulling that out will wait til winter when the brush is down.

I’ve decided to find out who was tending the park when I moved here and why it’s stopped. Then I’m going to see what I can do to fix this. Obviously, people now consider this an acceptable dump and that just isn’t acceptable.

 

June 10, 2009

Summer on the mountain. Neighbor saw a mama bear and her two cubs. Honeysuckle is in full, fragrant bloom. Goldfinches and chipping sparrows crowd my feeders. And drink cups and cigarette packs pile up on the side of the road. Sigh.

FYI: The Twitter fad has already jumped the shark. You heard it here first.

 

September 5, 2007

Getting a late start today because it was trash day. Not as in “take the cans to the curb” (or the end of the lane, in my case), but “take a bag along when I walk the dog and pick up roadside trash.” The township cut back the weeds on both sides of the road, exposing a summertime of litter.

I don’t know what my new neighbors think of this—do they think I’m a crazy bag lady? A treehugger? I can’t stand to walk every day and see it accumulate. So once or twice a week I take along a plastic grocery bag and fill it. Litter begets litter. I believe a clean roadside (even in the woods) will make at least some people hesitate.

I used to do this in Foggy Hollow so of course the habit follows me (and I wonder who’s picking up the trash there now). I’ve found more than fast-food detrius, too. In the past sixteen years, I’ve found crack pipes (at least I think that’s what they were—made out of prescription bottles so I know it wouldn’t work for pot), a gun (which I turned into the township police), mattresses (in better condition than what the Salvation Army had, which is of course where I took them), and an air conditioner. My husband has run off people trying to dump their yard waste and I’ve chased people (on foot and by car) who dumped their house-project waste on our property.

Even worse, I’ve taken cats to the shelter because they were dumped and we couldn’t keep them. And once a sweet, sweet puppy I found cowering among the neighbors’ trash bags (he’d slept there for warmth). Those people should feel the most shame.

My first dog was good at picking up plastic bottles and cans in the brush for me. This dog doesn’t grasp the concept, at least not yet. But there’s time. I’ll keep doing this because—unfortunately—people will keep littering.