It normal to collect garbage. At Lumière, one collects garbage for an awfully long time. Upon arrival I was told it’s time to take the trash out and I couldn’t disagree; most of the bottles and much of the litter blowing around the site I recognized from December and January. When the animals started to come and rummage, I decided it was really time to take action.
But when I called EcoService to do the honors, they laughed. “Yea, it’s far out there. We’ll get to it when we can.” Weeks passed. I feared no one would come to our remote forest.
Until today…
I received the call and immediately set to work. I knew the truck would get lost, but that’s fine: It would give me time to cut the thorns in the driveway. Our cab driver refused to enter the property for fear of his car; the least I could do was ensure the garbage truck could make it to the trash.
In my little sundress I removed the gate, raked the path, chopped the thorns. I winced as the bushes poked through my flimsy sandals and cut the bottom of my feet. I sweat so much I hated the smell of myself. And every five minutes I answered the phone to give the trash collectors new directions.
They arrived just as I finished clearing the way. “But where to go? Please come with us.” There was no room up front.
So I climbed in the back with the bags of trash. Driving towards the land, dodging cashew branches that hit the truck, thorns in my feet, drenched in sweat, and surrounded by garbage, I laughed. This is what my life has come to.
And I like it. A lot. :)
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