I Can’t Keep It In…

I was out with a group of people on a youth club trip in 1975, and we stopped partway to our destination for a break to stretch our legs in a local wood. I went out to explore while the tea was brewing and came back with an empty plastic compost bag that had been dumped in the stream. I stuffed the bag into the litter bin nearby, and the rest of the group just watched me like I’d grown green fur and horns. I tried to explain about the Conservation Corps and their drive to improve the environment, and they said “Riiight…. So is it okay if we leave some of our urine behind this bush, or will you want to scrape it up?”

Fifty years on and I’m still that person, though I admit I can’t bend down to pick up litter as easily as I could back then. So I was pleased to hear that our local library hired out litter-picking equipment. Long-handled picker, gloves, hi-vis vest and purple bags. I was in town last week to get the encrusted calcium chipped off my fangs (dental hygiene appointment) and took a few minutes to drop in and pick up a litter kit.

It took a few days to find the time, but Saturday was the day. Even so, there were several other jobs waiting for me and I had to say very firmly that I was going out for an hour to pick up litter.

An hour turned into two, and then some. Two purple bags filled with rubbish – mainly drinks cans (one of them unopened), though plastic sweet packets and bottles also featured heavily. Once I got my eye in, it was easy to spot; if it had straight edges or bright colours, it was likely to be litter. Special mention for the two unopened packs of some kind of medical tablets – not prescription, or I’d have dumped them in the garden of whoever it was assigned to. Four wheel trims, all from different makes of car, and a rusty iron bar. And of course, the traditional plastic Evian bottle containing either whiskey or the piddle of a severely dehydrated person. So grateful for the arms-length picker on this trip.

It does leave me wondering what kind of pillock can go to the effort of opening a window to throw out a can of drink but doesn’t understand that it’s less hassle to just drop the rubbish into the passenger footwell and dispose of it at home. Maybe they’re going home to mummy and daddy and they’re afraid of admitting that they drink Red Bull?

Don’t be a litter-bugger. You can keep it in. This is the second time this year I’ve had to clean up our street, and I have better things to do with my time.

A quick update. I lugged the two bags full of rubbish home on Saturday, but I left the glass bottles and wheel trims there because I had my hands full. Went back on Tuesday to collect the glass (for recycling) and wheel trims (for a fresh litter sack). Already half a dozen items of litter chucked out onto the verges, including an empty can of Red Bull in exactly the same place as last time. Disheartening.