True, I'm paraphrasing Coleridge. I must say I loooove that overwhelming sense of greatness and defeat in his words "Water, water everywhere..." while dying of thirst in the middle of the ocean.
I'm also overwhelmed by a sense of greatness and defeat, not by the vastness of the ocean but by the rubbish. Rubbish in Barrydale is ubiquitous and unbeatable, a cosmic force against which it seems useless to rebel, like gravity. And although I'm certainly not on the verge of dying because of it, the rubbish - everywhere - always triggers in me a sense of depression.
Admittedly depression is quite a personal feeling and in order to be depressed by rubbish one has to be a particular kind of person - the wrong one. The other one litters and lives happily ever after.
Obeying to an inner masochistic streak, I took my camera and went for some pictures hunting - some things MUST be immortalized.
The first item in this collection of images is actually a pearl: Barrydale's welcome sign to visitors. It talks loads about municipal standards and criteria. And plenty more about pride, care, dignity, as well as attracting tourism and promoting local business.
It looks like a joke. I suggest either we remove the sign or we remove the rubbish. As nobody seems to understand that rubbish doesn't necessarily belongs to the landscape, I guess removing the sign would be a better and more permanent solution.
Pictures 1 and 2 describe the situation at the school's sports ground. Here the pictures seem to emphasize education, cultural models and local legacy to future generations. Useless wasting more words.
Finally a surprise for those who seem "to know" where littering comes from. Pictures 3 and 4 show a massive illegal dumping of rubbles at the side of the road (the so called Escape road). Ie. a smart ass' clandestine operation gone wrong: there have been witnesses - Barrydale is too small for smart asses.
In 15 days time charges will be laid.
Why in 15 days time?
Well, perhaps in the meantime the offender will reconsider and clean up the mess.
What can I say? Ducks are real "softies".