Monday Blues: Trash

San Gabriel River. San Gabriel River Trail. Trash. Garbage. Basura. Detritus. Abfall. Rifiuti. Refuse. Waste. Debris. Litter. The language doesn't matter, it is all the same, and no good in any one. Why would an otherwise 'intelligent' species foul its own home? The one home. The very place that provides life. I ride away, miles pass behind, but the trash stays with me.

I ride a bike (in case you did not know), and as I ride I observe, I witness. When I ride, the things I observe, the events I witness are often ones most people do not get to see. Quite frankly, some of the things I observe, many people would not even wish to see. These things might make them uncomfortable. The rides I take frequently travel along, or through, fringe areas of this urban miasma. Things, and people, collect in these fringe areas. Like the trash shown in the photo above. Or, worse yet, like the homeless. Apparently various encampments have been rousted over the past few weeks along the SGRT, the occupants dislodged, hovels demolished, belongings removed, the sites scrubbed clean. These people have no where else to go, no where to turn. And so they sit, beside the bike path, individuals, families, and great collections of meagre possessions. A man consoled a woman, while she wept beside their piles of clothes and, what most of us would call trash. It was all they had. A younger woman, their daughter perhaps watched forlorn as I passed. 

I ride my bike, and as I ride I witness. Sometimes those things are not pleasant. Often they are depressing. Discomfort brings change. These are things that should be seen by more.

Blue: A color, a mood or emotion, a genre of music. Tune in each Monday for another installment of the Blues, with a cycling twist.