I rather enjoy litter picking, treating it as a treasure hunt rather than a chore. I’ve done it for many years now. Here’s a haul from earlier times. Shocking isn’t it? I’m pleased to see that a lot more people these days. have got in on the act of clearing out towns, countryside and beaches. It doesn’t have to be something done on a big organised event. I might see a bit of detritus on a walk, pop it in my pocket and put it in the trash at home.
There’s often a time too when I’m out swimming and see rubbish floating towards me. So I’ll grab hold of it and put it in the nearest litter bin after I’ve emerged from the sea. I like to think that I may have saved the life of one member of the marine family. This thought came home to me yesterday. We were walking home from town, the long way along the quay. A poor teenage gull had a fishing float attached to his foot. I hope that it dislodges and he makes it.
Sometimes there’s treasure to be had from litter picking. The rather natty duck on the left is one I found in a local cove. Instead of degrading in the sea, he now has pride of place in my bathroom. There was another nice example of this the other week. While I was out swimming I spied a frisbee on the shoreline. I swam in, picked it up and gifted it to a little girl who was on the beach with her mum and dad.
Here’s an interesting poster with a pertinent message that I snapped on a Breton holiday. I’d just cleaned the beach at this spot and was given a round of applause by the sunbathers. Of course the poster is in French. However its message is clear and doesn’t need spelling out.