Trash Walking

Walking is the basic unit of my P.I.E. program. On the days when I do not have time to hop on the bike, I try to get in an early walk in the hood. This morning I faced a day full of finance. Lots of checking numbers on register receipts against numbers on bank statements.My beloved husband insists on this activity and in the age of identity grabbing, I guess he's right. So, knowing I had to wear the green eye shade all day, I pulled on my walking shoes at dawn and grabbed three letters to mail at the petite post office which is about a mile away. I didn't make it off the block before I found a giant cardboard box that was just the thing I needed for the bottom of my newest lasagna garden. Back to the house. I start again, and then stop to carry home a piece of jade green garden fence that will provide perimeter fencing for the grandkids' fairy play house.Back to my house. The third time, I actually made it off the street and started walking briskly to the post office. Mailed my letters and started home. Half way home I stumble over a refuse site containing four large framed pictures. I know that I can't drag them home. They are heavy,copper framed,and modern. They are a little water stained, but surely, another urban recycler will pick them up. Reluctantly, I lean them back against the black, plastic cans. It is then that I notice the last picture, a smaller one, oak framed. It is the second pull of a print with a run of thirty. It is signed by the artist Hope Barton, and seems to depict the Suwanee River where I have camped and kayaked for the last two years. I can't leave the print. I pick it and start home. The picture is heavy, but I'm able to shift it from hand to hand and get it home. Having run a landfill in 1967 when I couldn't get a teaching job in Virginia while my husband was going through Marine OCS, I know what happens to trash. Everything gets smashed by a huge blade and transported to the same deep hole. That is why I recycle some pieces of my neighbors' trash. I take many of the items to Goodwill where they can be used by someone else. It requires a little effort on my part to transport them, but my personal satisfaction is immense. I think the Hope Barton print will hang on my wall. For a few days anyway.