Thursday, June 25, 2009


The early morning is my favourite time of day to walk about the neighbourhood. And it’s particularly wonderful during the summer months, when the sun has risen by 5:30 a.m., and it’s warm enough to go without a jacket. It’s rare to run into anyone else; Kobi (my dog) and I usually only have to share the streets with some very chatty birds. The air is clean and fresh, Kobi is always enthusiastic and all the well-tended gardens we pass along the way provide an inspiring backdrop.

However, two mornings ago, as Kobi and I took a quick detour through the park on our way home, I was saddened to note how much litter was strewn about so carelessly. It’s a small space, but one that many children and their caretakers regularly enjoy. As I plucked two dirty plastic water bottles from the sand beneath a swing, I wondered why “somebody” (or very many somebodies) hadn’t thought to clean up the mess.

The next day, Kobi and I stuck to our usual route and veered around the perimeter of the park instead of trekking through it. But instead of simply admiring the lovely landscaping across the street, I took another hard look at all the debris, and angrily thought to myself that “somebody” certainly must be responsible for maintaining the area… but who?

This morning, as I walked out my front door, I immediately spotted a grocery bag lying on the lawn. That was when it struck me that the universe might actually be trying to tell me that “somebody” could be me. After scooping it up, Kobi and I headed directly for the park to fill the bag with trash. Less than five minutes later, we were happily on our way again, none the worse for having gone through this exercise.


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