He rarely finds his way into the centre of the village and sometimes as I make my way to church for the first service on a Sunday I find the amount of garbage I pass oppressive, and depressive, so I try to do something about it. Yesterday I was a couple of minutes earlier than usual so before the trash became inaccessible beneath parked cars I took the litter-picker and a bag and did a quick sweep of the short stretch of street along from the church, past the kebab shop which is responsible for a lot of the litter and round the corner. There was the odd can and bottle, lots of bits of paper and wrappers, a sole face mask (not as many of them as there used to be) and a glove.
The reaction of the few early-Sunday passersby always fascinates me in that the expressions I catch out of the corner of my eye seem a weird mixture of confusion and outrage. Not only is picking up litter in full view of others apparently a bizarre, eccentric and shocking activity, it's also objectionable, it seems. And I thought it was one of the more useful things I do with my time, frankly.
Clearing up litter is one of the tasks commonly given to offenders on what used to be called Community Service, later I think Community Payback. Were you by any chance wearing a yellow or orange bib jacket? The bystanders may (mistakenly) think you have done something wrong.
ReplyDeleteI was about to say that I have never, ever knowingly warn such a garment but in fact when I was in Lamford my ex-partner insisted I wear one while cycling and that she'd have my guts for garters if I didn't. I was quite relieved when it fell apart, by which time we were no longer an item.
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