Walking. Day After Tomorrow.*

4:25 a.m. I’m off.  791 consecutive (almost) days (like in a row) — my daybreak walk at Cove Island Park.

Never could read a map, coupled with a lousy sense of direction.  But, I could feel it. A gentle breeze from some direction at 5 mph. Just enough to keep the pesky gnats from feasting on me.

65° F.  Breezy. No humans. Quiet. A perfect morning.

Yet, despite this magnificent start, I should have known. It was still dark out, but it got darker, fast.

I pull into the parking lot, turn off the ignition and sit and look around me.

Plastic forks and plates. Plastic Bags. Cans. Bottles. Disposable hibachi charcoal grills, empty charcoal bags. Face masks. Soiled diapers. Potato chip bags. Remains of potato salad. Toys (broken).  Cans of empty pork and beans. Watermelon rinds.  A total desecration of a place that should be sacred, hallowed ground.

I stare out of the windshield, pondering whether I should just fire up the car and head home. Sigh. This is all in full alignment with the documentary last night.

Eric tuned into a Disney documentary on a family of sperm whales in Dominica, with spectacular underwater shots of the gentle creatures, mothers’ nursing their babies, the click, click, click of whales communicating with each other.  And all of this magnificence threatened by discarded gill nets, hits from boat propellers and swallowing toxic plastics thrown overboard.

So the nerve receptors were switched on high as I’m taking in the parking lot scene.  Like Alice Walker in “Moody” in “Her Blue Body Everything We Know“:

I am a moody woman
my temper as black as my brows
as sharp as my nails
as impartial as a flood
that is seeking, seeking, seeking
somewhere to stop.

Enough DK. Let it go. I’m sure this mess is due to park overcrowding after 2 years of COVID quarantine and a shortage of garbage cans, or… raccoons tipping trash cans. Has to be.

I get out of the car, kicking a beer can over the curb.

I walk.

Trash cans overflow with refuse.  See. They tried, they did.

I walk.

I can’t see anything but trash.  Shreds of paper. Discarded children’s clothing. Baseball caps. Plastic, plastic, more plastic. My eyes can’t seem to see anything but trash. Eyes twitching, swiveling, locking in on trash-only.

I approach the breakwall, and this image tips me over. Trash cans are less than 100 feet away. Would you leave refuse like that in your home, your apartment, your parent’s home? 

That’s it. Enough. Home.

I place the backpack on the back seat, happy to free myself of yet another load. I turn, the beer can that I kicked is on the median. Do your part b*tch and take it to the trash can.

I bend down to grab it with the tips of my index finger and thumb. As I’m lifting it (upside down, like an idiot), the foamy remains of the can drains on my shoe.

F*cking Hell. We’re in trouble.


  • Photos from this morning @ Cove Island Park.  More pictures from this morning’s walk here. (Free of trash)
  • * Post Title inspired by the movie titled: Day After Tomorrow.  Warnings of Climate change are ignored, leading to cataclysmic natural disasters leading to a new Ice Age.


  1. oh, that final defiant act from the beer can, to snap you out of your momentary peace –

    Liked by 3 people

  2. We were always taught to leave it better than you found it. Not a hard rule to follow when enjoying the beauty that surrounds us.

    Liked by 4 people

  3. What is wrong with people??

    Liked by 2 people

  4. This makes me sad and I fully understand your frustration. This is something that really infuriates me too. Same anywhere on mountains or picnic sites. If you were able to bring it up you blxxy well should be able to bring it down too. They are EMPTY
    And throwing stuff into the sea….. urrgh!!! 🐷😬😡

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Would it be so hard for people to bring a trash bag with them? They know that once the bins are overflowing – as will happen in these gatherings – there will be no were else to put them. It is so easy to just bring it with you when you’re done.
    It infuriates me to no end. I feel your pain.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Whoa! Inauspicious start of the day/week. Let it go (be)

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Reblogged this on It Is What It Is and commented:
    Sadly the HUMAN way … “I can’t see anything but trash. Shreds of paper. Discarded children’s clothing. Baseball caps. Plastic, everywhere. My eyes can’t seem to see anything but trash.”

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Sick feeling in the pit of my stomach as I read this, pal. I, too, am enraged when I see this sort of thing. Absolutely no excuse. Indicative of an attitude, I fear. “I’m done, I’ve got what I needed, let someone else clean up the mess.” Doesn’t auger well….

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Some people just don’t give a damn! It burns me up!

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Aw :-(. I get your pain (and anger). Littering is my every day here –I live with clutterers, hoarders, and kids in this beautiful little house and land patch that I often feel we don’t deserve. So, I’ll say it (and mean it) to you as well: “At least it’s not dead bodies everywhere.” And I love the other morning photos.🌷

    Liked by 1 person

  11. The full trash cans are no excuse for leaving garbage behind. You pack it in, you can pack it out. It’s so disheartening when you see that kind of mess, especially with all the environmental awareness we are taught in schools and TV ads. What is wrong with people?!

    Liked by 1 person

  12. The magnificence of the photo makes the writing all the more poignant..

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Bulletholes says:

    On Wed, Jul 6, 2022, 1:53 PM Renfro, Stephen Collins wrote:
    In the 10 grade Honors Biology class I did my science fair project on the effects of oil spills on marine life. I got an aquarium, put a couple catfish from the local pond, and poured oil on top. The catfish died. At least that what I said I did. For my display I had pictures of an aquarium, and the lyrics to this great song by a band called Bang, and a tape player where you could listen to the song.
    Biology was taught by the toughest teacher in the school, Frieda Van Koughnet. She was also sponsor for the rodeo club.

    She came by and started quizzing me on my display. Where is the aquarium you used? Are there pictures of the catfish? Did you have a control group? I was a bit at a loss for words.
    “Did you actually do any part of that experiment Steve?” she asked.

    I hung my head.
    “No Ma’am, but if you’d like I can play “Our Home “ for you again.
    She just walked away, but Freida must have had a heart. She gave me a “D”.
    So I offer the lyrics to OUR HOME for you Dave!
    (sorry to clog up your comments lol)

    White sand, majestic, sparkling snow
    Clean rivers, unspoiled, free to flow
    He gave, these treasures, for our home
    Uncaring, destruction, we have shown
    Our gift, we’ve wasted it yeah
    We’ve thrown away, yeah
    This was to be our home
    This was to be our home

    Starving victims, fleeing blindly
    Fighting death’s clutching hand
    Tin foiled hot dogs, by the thousands
    Rotting sweetly, on the land
    Unread leaflets bless your doorstep
    Reeking rivers filled with foam
    Sulfur clouds, gag each new day
    My god this was to be our home
    This was to be our home
    This was to be our home

    Liked by 1 person

  14. “A total desecration of a place that should be sacred, hallowed ground.” The more you connect with nature, as you are doing more and more every day (I see it!)…the more this will all get to you. So sorry, David, and I totally understand. This earth is, still, a beautiful place. But we humans still have so much to learn…and I wish some of us weren’t so dang stupid. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Christie says:

    Your local paper should run one of your amazing photo with a split image the daily beauty of where you live next to the photo of disrespect- asking the question of Why and Why can’t people Who enjoy the beauty of the Cove…not pick up after themselves? (Last year there a disturbing, aftermath of Mess?

    Liked by 1 person

  16. Wow! The garbage that you listed is the same garbage I see on the highway or by the river all the fucking time. It is all I can do to think at all well of the human race. This being said, every time Chris and I go off-road, we take contractor bags and stuff them full of garbage people have cast into the forest in the middle of nowhere. It used to make me so mad in Hawaii, that Chris insisted on hiking that beach trail by himself and pick up rubbish by himself. Because no sooner would we pick it up, then there it would be: broken bags of soiled diapers or styrofoam clamshells, and plastic plastic plastic and beer cans and bottles everywhere. Even cast off refrigerators and cars. It is a real problem there. What to do. What to do about the sacred places that have been so desecrated by thoughtless human beings?

    Liked by 1 person

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