Lots of people do different things to find that ‘feeling’, that rush of energy that kickstarts you into being. Some people conquer mountains. Some run marathons. I pick trash. I can remember my first trash find. We were visiting my nana, and my dad, mom & I took her trash to the town dump, as they didn’t have trash collection. It was 1978, I was five & trying to wrap my little mind around what this big messy heap was. It was spring & I hadn’t started school yet, but was looking forward to starting in the fall. I looked down, and sitting on top of a little trash mound at my feet, was a pink, unmarked, unused, eraser. I picked it up, showed my dad, and he said, “Sometimes people throw out things that someone else could use”. I was stunned…I mean, I had to finish everything on my plate because there were starving people in Ethiopia (the parental eat-it-all-or-else catch phrase at the time), and here people were throwing out useful things! I was hooked.
How about you? What’s your earliest experience with trash picking?