John Philip Souza and The Town Dump

Today, I had to make a trip to the Town Dump. In my town, there is no public trash service. If you want your trash picked-up, you have to pay a private company to do it. Or, you can buy a sticker @ the Recycling Center (this sounds better than Town Dump!) for $100.00 a year and cart your own trash and recycling to them. This is what I opt for and so each week, I pile all my trash into the car and make the trip to the dump site. Today was an exceptionally warm November day; it is supposed to get close to 70 degrees. This type of temperature does not do any favors for week-old trash. After I finished piling everything into the car, I got inside and quickly rolled down the windows. The smell of it all is just appalling; I mean beyond words. Fortunately, it is a short trip.

I pull into the dump and give a hello to the guy sitting in the booth; he checks to make sure I have the proper sticker on my bumper and waves me through. I always think about that guy's job. I mean, consider this: he sits inside a small booth all day long and waves people through with their trash, no questions asked. The only reason you would be stopped is if you didn't have the appropriate sticker on your car and then you would have to pay a $15.00 fee. I suppose anyone could drive in with anything in their car and throw it away. Wow...I have seen too many Law & Orders to start thinking about that!

The dump itself is sort of a dump. There is a shabby butler-type building with rusty holes in the ceiling and all kinds of frightening looking, greasy stains on the cement floor. It is open on two sides: one side for people to walk in and the other side for the dumpsters to be moved in and out. There are always flocks of seagulls there, hanging around and waiting for any sort of thing they might consider eating. Pretty amazing to think how they have gone from open waters to garbage dumps....I guess that would be considered evolution.

I actually think that it is a good idea to take my own trash to the dump. I certainly think about what I am doing every time I go. I take my bags of trash and toss them over the side into the enormous, dirty containers with everyone else's garbage, and say to myself: What is going to happen to all of this? Where does it go? When you stand in front of an enormous bin the size of the bed on an 18-wheeler full of who-knows-how-many-pounds-of-garbage, it can give you pause if you let it. Especially if you are there on a day when they are moving out a full dumpster and bringing in an empty one for all the new trash. The best day to go to the dump to really get yourself thinking about this is December 26th. That is a perfect day to witness what a throw-away society we are. Think about that this year when you are buying wrapping paper....

So anyway, today I got out of the car and opened up the back end. As I began to unload, I heard a very loud rendition of John Philip Souza's march, The Stars and Stripes Forever. You know the song I mean; they play it at all things patriotic. And I mean LOUD, just plain blasting out of a tinny little radio coming from the booth inside the dump. Now this booth is where the guy usually sits who manages the people as they dump their trash into the bins. When he is not sitting in there, he walks around checking out what you have thrown away; makes sure the newspaper doesn't get thrown into the magazine dumpster and that sort of thing. Sometimes, I try to leave things on the side of the dumpster, hoping someone will take it home. You know, something-that-is-still-useful-that-I-feel-terrible-throwing-out-but-don't-know-what-else-to-do-with. Usually when I do this, this man swoops down--sort of like the seagulls--and tosses it into the bin before I get back from my car again with my next bunch of trash. Anyway, today he was marching around and singing this song: da-da-dadada, dadadaaa.....da-da-da-da-da-da da-da-daaaa-da....you know the song?  He is kind of a short man, non-descript and marching--knees up and arms swinging--in a crisp, fresh sort of way. A pleasant smile on his face. He doesn't make eye contact with anyone, just makes his way through his rounds, picking up trash and keeping a general good order to everything in a brisk, efficient manner.

I try not to stare. I want to watch and take a picture and laugh and ask him why....why is he playing this music? I mean it would have been totally different if he had been playing Led Zeppelin or Earth, Wind and Fire; that would have just seemed like background music. But it wasn't that; it was a patriotic marching song. It was loud and clear and he was marching and singing along to it! And then I thought, well why not? I mean, here I am writing a blog post about it, for goodness sake. I am trying not to laugh out loud thinking about it as I write this inside the hushed library. And so again I will just say, Why Not?!

Expect good things....

Breath-taking November Beauty....

"Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace 

all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty."

Albert Einstein

Yesterday I pulled into my driveway. The gravel and dried leaves crunched under my tires. My radio was playing a classic-rock song by Queen. As Freddy Mercury crooned on, my eye caught movement in the backyard. I turned down the radio and shut off the ignition. There, nearly camouflaged by the autumnal colors, stood a male deer with a sizable rack on his head. He stood as still as a stone. I watched him through the windshield of the car; he was unmoving. I gathered up my belongings and quietly opened the door. I gingerly walked across the gravel until I reached the first stone of the walkway to the house and stopped. It was fairly quiet. I heard a distant car on the road a short distance away. There was a lone crow cawing across the yard and the breathing of this silent, strong buck.

We looked at each other; there was something so direct and still and steady in his gaze.
I said out loud: "You take good care. You are welcome and safe in this yard. You are beautiful."
It was a sweet moment---that steady, unmoving gaze watching me.
I took a breath and went inside the house.

In reference to Mr. Einstein's quote, here is a video that is so beautiful, I can barely think of
words to describe it; you have to watch it HERE.  It is a murmuration which is the proper name
for a flock of starlings. The event itself is a phenomenon which I have witnessed, 
but never to this extent.
Beyond that though, is the sheer joy and absolute awe of the two film- makers.
Watch it and pass it on....life is good!

Expect good things.....