Walking. With Georgia.

It was Sunday morning. 4:50 a.m. 68° F. Morning Walk @ Cove Island Park. 432 consecutive days, like in a row.

My “observations” from my Sunday walk led to yesterday’s Monday Morning Wake-Up Call post — a quote from Janwillem van de Wetering, about being proud of his awareness, proud of his awareness of his pride, being clever to know that he is stupid, etc. etc.

The quote landed. My cup of awareness (I thought) runneth over, and I have a vice grip on all that I don’t know.  But this observation seemed to bottom out.

This spring, with the increase in seasonal park traffic, garbage cans were planted throughout the Park — electric pink — surely colored to encourage patrons to dump their sh*t in the can. I did notice the green cans, but they seemed fewer in number. And for 100 straight days, I walked by these cans, tossed trash in these same cans, and zero light bulbs turned on.

Until Sunday morning.

They were wearing headlamps, lights bobbing up and down as they approached.

Her head was down, averting contact.

His head turned to me in response to my “Good Morning”.

“Good Morning, Sir” in a Spanish accent. There we go again. Another human being calling me ‘Sir.’  Respect? Or do they see a Retiree? Either way, de-stabilizing.

They kept walking. I took a few steps in the opposite direction, stopped, and turned to look back.

Ah, Pink Cans.

He was in one. She in the other.

The garbage bags could hold, what 200 cans each?

5¢ each. ~$10 per bag. $20 take-home pay. Maybe $30.

I turned away, and kept walking. Feelin’ heavy.

And while I walked, I took inventory. iPhone: $700. Apple Watch: $300. Shirt, Shoes, Pants: $250. Backpack. $100. Camera and lens. TMI.

…amounting to 75 Sunday mornings of can collection. 75 Sunday mornings, and that’s just what I’m carrying.

I walk. Brooding, in the low hanging cloud cover and high humidity.

“Check the Privilege.” (Georgia)