Picking Up Trash

Who knew that the simple act of picking up trash that had blown into our pasture could be so much fun. 

The other day while Chuck was busy clearing some limbs and bringing them to the burn pile the two older grandsons and I decided to take a pasture ride in our Mule. 

Chuck had pointed out that some debris had blown into the pasture, and asked if we would we mind picking it up. We live off of a highway so this isn’t uncommon. Since we run cows on the property it’s not a good idea to leave trash for them to investigate.  In case you didn’t know, cows are extremely curious creatures. 

As we made our way down to the front pasture I spied a large styrofoam drink cup. I hopped out to pick it up when I heard my 8 year old grandson yell, “Don’t touch it.” It was then I realized that he might have an affinity for germs. 

He reached in the back of the Mule and got the “grabber.” Apparently I like to live on the edge because I picked the cup up with my bare hands and threw it in the back of the Mule. 

We continued on with each boy taking turns retrieving trash using the “grabber.” Suddenly I heard one of the boys say, “Eeew a mouse!” I immediately responded with, “A dead mouse?”

My 6 year old grandson piped up with, “No a computer mouse.” I immediately burst into laughter. Picking up trash with these boys had been absolutely delightful. I hadn’t l laughed that hard in ages. 

Sometimes I envy the innocence of childhood and the ability to find joy in the simple things. 

“It is that sense of mystery and wonder and intense focus and fascination we lose as we age, that we need to recover, reclaim, own, cherish and share.”   Patti Digh  Life is a Verb