The Trash Terrorist

 There's a new sheriff in town, cleaning up the mean streets, and his name is--The Trash Terrorist!

Delta is filthy.  The amount of trash I'm seeing on the streets around here is just phenomenal.  I've lived in different parts of Vancouver, and then in North Van, and I never saw trash like this.  I sometimes saw a lot of trash in American cities where I was working, and in some other places around the world where I've taught, but seldom so much litter.

There's an "adopt a street" program in Delta.  It only seems to want to do a once per quarter cleanup, and I don't think that does much good.

So, I'm cleaning up litter.  I'm out for walks a lot anyway, so I got a grabber from the dollar store (I'm old, and bending down is hard), and I am starting to save plastic bags, and I'm picking up trash when I'm out on my walks.

I noticed something, yesterday.  I felt better in the areas that I cleaned a few days ago, at least, the ones that were still clean.  Not just in a vague oh, look what I good job I did way, but actually felt viscerally, almost physically, better, as I was walking through the cleaned areas.  When litter had been dumped, again, in areas that I had cleaned, or when I was in areas that I hadn't cleaned yet, I felt depressed and vaguely physically unwell.  I'd cleaned up the area around the library, and, when I went to drop off some stuff there yesterday, and saw that there was more litter on the grounds, it was very disappointing.  So, I went back later and cleaned up around the library (and the health unit building, too, for good measure).