My litter free zone began in March. I didn’t even think about it. I saw a plastic bottle rolling in the wind towards me and… I picked it up. Big deal.
But what I found rather curious were the brief thoughts that cascaded through my brain before picking it up. It wasn’t, “Oh, a piece of litter. I’ll pick it up. Hooray.”
Instead, I could foresee the bottle rolling into the park across the street, and into the Rideau River, decaying in the sunlight as it made its way down the Ottawa River and into the Saint Lawrence… and my thought for the bottle, with just a smidgen of disgust, was this: “What a waste of resources.”
More importantly, was my thought for the river itself. But it wasn’t even cognitive. It was more of a twinge of heartache, quite like that feeling you get when you see a child playing alone, unaware of anyone else, lost in their own world of make-believe games. It’s part delight for that innocence, part fear for their vulnerability, part protectiveness, and part sadness for knowing this innocence and complete unselfconsciousness will most probably be lost in the years to come. That’s the twinge of heartache I felt for the river.
The next day, in the span of about five minutes, as I was walking Pablo along the river, I picked up a few more pieces of litter. Cans, coffee cups, plastic wrappers. And for about five minutes every day, when I spot the first piece of trash, I do the same thing for about five minutes or so.
There was a time, not so long ago, that I would have felt anger doing this. Anger for the people throwing their garbage on the ground, and contempt for everyone who I see walking over or around the trash without lifting a finger. Perhaps I’ve mellowed. Perhaps I’m a bit less proud than I used to be. But I doubt that.
Instead, it seems to be a subtle change in my perception. Because, I’m not doing it to be a better person. I’m not doing it to make the world a better place. Nor am I doing it, or writing about it now, to show others that if we all pitch in together… (well, you know that speech).
I’m doing it for the river.
My perception of the river is no longer just a source of beauty, a source of water, or just the home for the ducks and cranes and beavers. The river itself is alive to me. It’s a child, without awareness of itself, vulnerable, meandering through the city. And this small, almost insignificant act I perform each day with my five minute litter free zone, is strengthening the bond I feel with it. And its strengthening the bond I feel with the trees around it, the people and the animals I see, the flowers, and, yes, with the whole of the earth.
I’d recommend you give it a try. Sure, picking up a bit of trash has tremendous benefits, and if everyone had a five minute litter free zone, the world would be a much cleaner place, and all of that. But I’m not suggesting you try it for any of those reasons. I’m suggesting you try it for yourself. See if it brings you closer to the portion of the earth you live in.
And of course I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.
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“I’m doing it for the river.”
What a beautiful way of looking at it. I’d never thought of it this way before but it makes so much sense and makes it so much easier to pick up because of what you are doing it for.
Thank you.
Thank you John. I had wanted to write about this for quite a while now, and had no idea what anyone would make of it. So I just wrote it out and hit the post button without re-reading or editing. Not always a wise idea, but now I’m glad I did. Thanks again.
I loved this post, David.
It’s funny, but it was moving from a city to a small rural community that changed my perspective on this. In the city, there is such a plethora of meh-ness (it’s a word) when it comes to littering. It’s everywhere, and hardly anybody thinks twice about it anymore. Yes, you still see the litter cleaners, but I think the abiding thought is that it’s their job to deal with it. Not everyone else’s.
But when I moved here, that whole perception changed. Here, the community looks after itself. Now, granted, I happen to have chosen a community that is very conscious of the environment, so maybe that has something to do with it.
All I know is that when I take the hounds for a walk here, there isn’t a lot of litter all over the place. And what there is, I have no issue with picking up along the way. Neither, it would seem, does anyone else.
I like that about my town.
I like that everyone pitches in to make it so pretty and nice to live in. It doesn’t just make for a cleaner town, it actually makes for a more connected community.
My litter free zone is the whole town. And the best part about that is that the whole town feels the same way.
It’s one of those things that makes me smile.
Sounds like you picked a beautiful town, Lori. I live in a real mixed area, on the border of three communities in Ottawa – New Edinburgh, Rockliffe Park & Vanier. Quite the mix! There’s a town in Ontario where I worked as a reporter years ago that your town reminds me of – Amherstburg. Amazing people.
~laughs~ Dear David and Lori,
Since we met in college, the man who became my husband called me a Girl Scout. One of the reasons is that I pick up litter. I don’t do it all the time, just when it seems obvious, like on an open beach, or near my car. I mean, I have pockets, I have a trash bag, no biggie. I’ve heard others pick up litter with the if-I-didn’t-do-it-it-would-never-get-done attitude of an irritated mother. But it doesn’t bother me. I do it because it feels right to do for my world. And I’m glad to hear the other people — whole communities even — do the same. It’s an act of love, isn’t it?
David-
I have to say that I agree with you. We live in Michigan. For years, we were not able to enjoy the big lakes around us, only the small local ones, which can be a treat in of itself. But this year, I decided that my children need to visit. What a beauty to behold! The sounds, smells, sights… Breath taking for me to say the least. As we walked along the sandy beach, I kept noticing litter. Balloons, to wrappers, baggies and tags from items families brought with them. At first, I was shocked, then angered. How could anyone be so neglectful of the world’s beauty, our state and national resource? The wildlife the need this for survival and when their exhistance is extinguished for our own ignorance, it will have an impact on the human race. My children and I still picked up all the we encountered, but with saddness in our hearts. We don’t have the luxury to live on the lake or to visit every day.
Thank you for the different angle on this.
Thanks for sharing Kelley. I love Michigan too. Growing up just a few miles from Detroit, I’ve been fortunate enough to have traveled every inch of the I-75 in Michigan more than a few times. A beautiful and diverse state.
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