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Advice from a small town girl

Harbingers of Spring

They say it’s always darkest before the dawn.

Mind you, I don’t know who “they” are, and I don’t really care.

But I’ve been thinking lately, mostly as I’m driving to work in the morning, that it’s always ugliest before the spring.

Every year since moving here, I count calves as I drive down the hill west of town. One day there will be one or two, then suddenly there are tens and twenties. This morning, there was a brand-new calf right next to the roadside fence. Mother was resting, and baby hadn’t even been licked clean yet. It’s a sight that always gives me hope. Spring is on its way.

Then there are the other harbingers of the season.

One of which is litter.

Yes, folks, we have a trash problem out here in the channeled scablands. I suspect that it’s a problem everywhere, but for some reason I notice it most in the few weeks between snow melt and spring greening.

I guess it shows up then because the dead grasses have been beaten down by the winter weather, and the new growth hasn’t had a chance to camouflage anything yet.

That’s neither here nor there, however. Littering will always be one of those behaviors I just don’t understand.

I will never be able to understand why people throw trash out of their cars, so that we can all have the benefit of viewing it along the road. It’s a roadside attraction I’d just as soon avoid.

In fact, I can understand one person striking another in the heat of the moment more easily than I can understand littering. At least the person committing the act could claim they were overcome by anger.

In the case of littering, you have to DECIDE to litter. You have to have already decided that a healthy environment or an attractive roadside don’t matter to you, but you still have to DECIDE to roll down your window or open your door and desecrate an environment that we all must share. You have to DECIDE that you don’t care.

I don’t get it. It’s rude, it’s obnoxious and it doesn’t serve a purpose. At least not a purpose that makes sense to me.

Of course, I also used to not understand people who would stop in the middle of the sidewalk, causing the person behind them to either learn to dance in a hurry or to have a rear-end collision.

Now that I’m older, though, I understand that particular behavior all too well. I can be walking pretty much anywhere, at any time, when my brain yells, “WAIT! WHERE AM I AND WHAT AM I DOING HERE?” You might want to remember that if you’re ever following me.

Then there are those who insist on walking three abreast down a crowded sidewalk and force others to step aside. Or the people who walk across the street as slowly as possible. They seem to enjoy the momentary power to halt traffic.

What’s with that, anyway?

I’ve been thinking that picking up litter would be a great way for me to move more, to get more exercise.

I’ve been thinking that for several years, but still haven’t done it.

Of course, it would make more sense to make the litterbugs get out there and pick it up . . .

 

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