Indiana is a beautiful state, with winding, narrow roads along rolling hills. The foliage is way ahead of what we will find in Montana, I'm sure, as the trees are bursting with their fresh green growth this time of year. I took a short run this morning through the neighborhoods around Brandy and Rusty's home. All the lawns are covered with lush thick grass that has obviously had an ample dose of fertilizer over the year.
There are several empty lots through out the area, dispersed among some of the houses that bear "For Sale" signs. I found it interesting that in a respectable neighborhood, replete with lovely homes through out, there would be the amount of trash thrown about as there was. I wasn't in a position to stop and pick it all up along the way. Yet it prayed upon me leaving it behind. So I vowed to take the dog for a walk and, fortified with plastic bags from the store, I would clean it all up.
So, after a day of visiting Michael's dad and brother, Denali and I started out on our promised walk. As I stopped to pick up the trash, I found it interesting that most of it was in in front of vacate lots and homes. Yet at each place, someone lived in the house next door. Now, I don't know about you, but if there were empty plastic bottles and soda cans next to my house, I wouldn't care if they were mine or not. I would pick them up and dispose of them. It wouldn't take much forethought about that for a moment. It is there, it doesn't belong there, therefore I will pick it up. I don't need to know who put it there, how it got there, or why. Information not needed for the task at hand.
That's just the way I see it. But, I do have to confess that all of that collected trash just ended up in the trash. No recycle bin here. Oh well, at least when I go out for my next run it will be a lot more pleasant for me, anyway and just maybe someone out walking their dog.
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