Keep America Beautiful

I live in a gorgeous, tree-filled neighborhood in southern Maryland. We have a lot of land and foliage and breathtaking views that make me want to stay home more often than not. But, while it is a heavily wooded area, it is still a neighborhood and we do have paved roads and the occasional street sign (see Walking Small 06/03/08). I like to take long walks on these winding roads through the trees and woods with small creeks and trickling water guiding the way. I like to be alone with nature and my thoughts.
It is a perfect 71 degrees today with low humidity and a happy little breeze to carry the scents of the coming fall weather to my eager nose.
However, I became increasingly saddened on my walk today. It seems some very disgusting people think my neighborhood woods are simply a dumping ground for their excessive trash.
Did that weeping Native American dude in the early 70’s teach us nothing?
Why is it easier to drive out into the woods in the middle of the night with all your garbage than to simply roll it to the curb like the rest of the good citizens of the world?
They eat a lot of fast food, these dregs of society, and apparently buy their six packs still attached by those plastic rings we used to use as handcuffs when I was eight. And while that curious little memory occupied my mind, I became even more depressed by all the small game that apparently did not make the trek across the road.
So, so sad.....
So I began looking up while still attempting to glance down, because while I didn’t want to see anything, I certainly didn’t want to step on anything, either!
After about 45 minutes, and after a headache and stiff neck began to set in from the strange tilt of my head and scissor-crossing eye movements, I spied an open cardboard box next to the road. Inside were stacks of insurance papers. Unused forms still in the plastic wrappers. Who disposes of office supplies in such a manner? So strange.
A few more steps and I spotted a child’s backpack on the side of the road.
Oh dear, said I.
I’ve never seen any kids on this road.
Is that because a clown saw them first?
Do I need to go searching for a child in the woods? A child whose affairs are not in order due to lack of insurance forms on hand?
I’m not dressed for that!
Why does this have to happen on MY walk?
Why don’t private investigators and police officers take walks on this road?
Then, a few more steps, and a pair of slightly used surgical gloves ....

You know, I used to be quite a little track star in high school, perhaps I should go ahead and JOG home!
And, by the way, who runs over turtles? Honestly, how does that happen? Did it dash out in front of you while you were dumping cadavers and cans of Coors Light?

.... I’m beginning to understand the whole Crystal City Concept!