National River Clean-Up Day

That was today, May 21! There was a local effort at a creek near where I live-- three hours of cleaning up, where the county water district supplied gloves, trash bags, water, and granola bars to keep us going.

It was tiring, but fun. About 18 people contributed along a stretch that was perhaps a mile long. One woman was Japanese, from Kyoto, who just read about this in the paper yesterday and came out. There was a guy who has come for 3 or 4 years in a row, and acted as a leader, getting rope and organizing people to pull up two shopping carts from under one of the bridges. Even a couple of high school girls came, getting community service points for a class.

Some of us worked in groups, chatting as we picked up trash. Others of us found our own rhythm in a solitary communion with the water, grass, weeds, and wildlife.

It was a little sad finding homeless encampments. Other hideouts had a few beer cans, perhaps some condoms or even a pair of panties. The creek bears witness to many human frailties.

There was a contest for the weirdest item found-- entries included a pogo stick and skateboard wheels (winner to be announced later). Apparently there were 30 sites like the one I went to, which must cover nearly the whole length of the creek.

As I directed my physical body toward service work on the planet that sustains it, I learned a few simple things.

• I got to explore how my eyes scan for trash. It turns out that shininess is the number-one feature of non-organic items, from aluminum to mylar. Next is gaudy color, like bubble-gum pink and turquoise, followed by many bright colors together, like on a Cheetos package. Surprisingly, white is often an indicator of refuse-- bits of paper or styrofoam. Beyond color is also size and shape-- the eye catches on items that are too large and/or regular (like a flattened-out moving box).
  
• What counts as trash? Most things are either obviously trash or obviously not, but I found myself pausing over a charred stick that had been burned in a campfire. Clearly organic and "natural," but also clearly rendered by human action.
  
• There came a moment when I caught myself hating humans. Everything was so "natural" and perfect, except for that glaring candy-bar wrapper mucking up the scene. It's true that humans dirtied the river with cast-off junk. But humans have always cast off their junk. We value that junk when it litters an archaelogical dig site. Pottery just looks more picturesque than a Pringles can. And besides, why hate all humans-- it was humans out there volunteering to help clean it up.
  
• I learned that I needed to protect myself even as I sought to serve. Sure, I was out there helping as much as I could, but I didn't try to get pieces of trash where it would have been dangerous to get to them. I was wary of handling items carefully since they are dirty and could be contaminated (people use drugs down by the creek, and besides, everything no doubt had a thick layer of bacteria on it). I stepped cautiously so as not to turn an ankle, and I took rests when I felt tired.
  

And perhaps most importantly:

• I learned that there is always one more piece of trash in the world, but also that every one picked up makes a difference.