Clean-Up Day

         I have more stories to tell but as I said in the beginning, time is flying right past me and has marched from Sunday into Monday.

         That's how I ended my last letter blog and I'd like to pick it up right there.

         The Bible teaching church I go to, the Moxie Community Church, has adopted a two-mile stretch of the Wyalusing New Albany Road. 

         Twice a year Tracy, our church secretary, organizes a roadside clean-up day and posts a sign-up sheet for volunteers.

         I volunteered.

         "What about Mike?" you ask.

         Mike might have helped but I know his back can't take all the walking and bending, so I never asked him.

         Saturday morning we were to meet at the church at 9 o'clock. I knew it was going to be wet out there because of all the rain we had so I wore my rain boots. Others changed into boots once they were there.

         Our route was divided into three sections and Tracy had it all mapped out. She made it complete with arrows indicating the direction we should travel, and then she hung it up. All the late comers had to do was check the map, pick a section, get a vest, gloves, trash bags, and an apron if they wanted one, and hit the road.

         "What's the camera for?" Pastor Mike asked seeing the camera hanging around my neck.

         "You never know when you'll see a pretty wildflower or a snake." I grabbed my camera and pointed it at Pastor Mike, who gave me a goofy grin as I snapped his picture.

         "A snake," he repeated, chuckled, and shook his head.

         Oh my gosh! I should really think before I engage my mouth! I didn't mean it that way!

         Out on the road, with occasional traffic whizzing past us, the five of us walked our section of the road.

         "If I can see it, I'm going to pick it up," Dave said. "If people drive by and see trash, they'll think we didn't do a very good job."

         And so we ranged quite a ways into the fields, woods, and ditches to pick up trash.

         Ditches. It seems like a lot of the litter had collected in the ditches. "Do people just look for ditches to throw their trash into?" Carl asked.

         "I think it's where it ends up when the wind blows it around," Karis, his wife replied.

         One ditch was deep and running with water. Dave took the woods side, Abby took the road side and since I had my boots on, I took the ditch. There were a lot of cups, cans, and bottles in the ditch as well as cigarette packs, candy and snack wrappers.

         The very first can I reach to pick up out of the water left me with a wet glove. "Look at that Abbs," I said holding up my soggy glove. "You would think I'd be smart enough to kick it out of the water before I picked it up, wouldn't you?"

          Abby is a polite and pleasant girl. She laughed at my silliness and said, "Yep."

         When not in use, and since I didn't want my camera to get in the way as I bend over to pick up stuff, I'd tucked it behind my left arm where it was safe. For the most part this worked really well except for one time. As my camera settled against the back of my arm, it engaged the shutter and I ended up with 20 pictures of the roadway before I can make it stop.

         Dave, Carl, and Karis were ahead of us, I lifted my arm, releasing my camera to swing in front of me, picked it up and snapped a photo, then tucked it back behind me as I continued to pick up litter.

         "Look! A caterpillar!" Abby exclaimed.

         "Where?" I asked releasing my camera again.

         "Right there!"

         I looked to see where she was pointing and when I looked back, I spotted it.

         "I don't think it's a caterpillar, sweetheart." And I snapped a couple of pictures as he moved away from me. "He has a lot of legs."

         "Centipede?" she guessed. "Millipede?"

         "I don't know," I told her but thanks to a Google search, I found out.

         This guy is really cool! He's called a Flat-backed Millipede.

         Millipedes are different from centipedes in that they have two pairs of legs per body segment and don't bite — centipedes do!

         Flat-backed Millipedes are fluorescent but it's mostly limited to the underside of the body. The yellow and black coloration is a warning to predators: stay away — I taste bad! This millipede can actually emit cyanide in response to an attack so you shouldn't pick it up. That's not to say it's very dangerous if you do — just wash your hands afterwards.

         I was still down in the ditch when Abby made another find.

         "A feather!" She picked it up and held it out towards me.

         "It looks like a turkey feather. Stick it in your hat and let me take a picture."

         I took a few more steps and slipped a little but managed to catch my balance. Falling on my butt would be so embarrassing, but I'd have to laugh about it anyway. Maybe I'll have to walk back to the church, I thought. "Hey Carl! Can I still ride in your truck if I'm wet?" But Carl was too far away and didn't hear me, so I was careful climbing out of the ditch. Abby helped. She gave me a hand.

         Abby and I caught up to the others. "I've always wondered about this little knoll here," Carl said extending his arm and sweeping it from left to right, his hand following the curve of the land. "Do you think it could've been a burial ground?"

         "Maybe," Abby says.

         "I don't know," I replied snapping a few pictures.

         "Peg, those look like rain clouds!" you exclaim.

         I know, right! That's what I was thinking too. I can tuck my camera into a trash bag, was my next thought. I had two or three of them tucked into the back of my jeans, the rear pockets in this particular pair of jeans were useless. The weather forecast was for scattered showers but I found out later that several people were praying for the rain to hold off until we were done. And for the most part it did. I only felt a few sprinkles.

         On down the road we go and it amused me that we were leapfrogging our way along our chosen route. Sometimes I was ahead and sometimes I was bringing up the rear. I was in the lead when I heard Abby, "There's a deer skull!"

         I whipped my head around so fast it's a wonder I don't have whiplash! "Where!"

          "Right there!" and I looked where she pointed until I spotted the cream color of the skull against the overgrowth of the roadside.

         I took a couple of pictures and used my foot to roll it over. "Someone cut the antlers off," I informed everyone.

         "There's another one over here," someone said.

         I made my way over there and this skull wasn't as old as the first one. "They cut the antlers off this one too," I said.

         "Yeah, then they throw the rest of the head out here," Carl observed.

         In nature, little goes to waste. It will feed many critters.

         Gross skulls and creepy critters weren't the only things I found to photograph. The honeysuckle is blooming.

         And so is the chokecherry.

         I showed Abby Yellow Rocket.

          "And this is Garlic Mustard." 

         I picked a handful, put it to my nose, and inhaled the delicate scent of garlic. I handed it to her and she smelled it.

         "Mmmm."

         "And you can eat both of  them too."

         "What part of it?" Dave asked.

         "All of it," I answered and we talked as we walked. "Leaves stem and flowers. You can eat it raw in a salad or steam it just like spinach. Only I wouldn't eat it if it's next to the road."

         We walk and we talk. Dave reached into the tall grass and picked something up. He studied it for a moment. "This must've meant something to someone," he said. "They laminated it."

         "What is it?" I asked.

         He slapped the dirt off against his leg and handed it to me.

         Five-Generation Family, it says in bold print. The family above represents five generations. From bottom left are: Mary Keeny, New Albany, grandmother; and Libby Lewis, Benton, great-great-grandmother. Standing from left are Robert Lewis, Benton, great-grandfather; and Kassie Kocher, Benton, behind her daughter, Tristan Kocher, on back of sofa.

         "How do people lose stuff like that?" Carl wondered.

         "I think some of it just blows out of a car or truck window." I don't remember if it was Karis or Dave who proposed that theory.

         It made me a little sad to stuff it down in my trash bag but what else could I do.

         "There's Tracy and Jeanette," someone said. Although Jeanette doesn't look near old enough to have a daughter Tracy's age, they are in fact mother and daughter.

          We'd reached the end of our section, and they'd reached the end of theirs. It was time to turn around and make our way down the other side of the road and back to the truck.

         "Here's a wrench," Carl said.

         "Carl's found his treasure," I said. "Let me take a picture," and Carl posed for me.

         "What's that in his other hand?" you ask.

         That, my dears, is Karis's treasure. It's a Corelle plate.

         "I'm always looking for something to put my plants on," she said and Carl carried it for her.

         We walk and we talk. I was standing up near the road, holding a trash bag, as Dave picked stuff up from the mouth of a culvert.

         "What's that flower!" It was my turn to be excited.

         "What? Where?" Dave asked.

         "That yellow one right there!" and I pointed.

         "That one?"

         "Yeah."

         "That's a dandelion," Dave said with a little laugh.

         "It doesn't look like a dandelion to me and I've never seen leaves like that." See, there I go again! Thinking I know more than I really do!

         Dave, bless his heart, went back a few steps. "What leaves?"

         "Those broad ones with the red stripe."

         Dave brushed his hand back and forth across them and out popped what I recognized to be a dandelion leaf. I was crestfallen. "It is a dandelion! Dave you were right." The others were nearby, my excitement over a new wildflower holding their attention. "I bet that's something most husbands don't hear very often...you were right..."

         "I better be right," Dave commented. "I've mowed enough of 'em over."

         We walk and we talk. I spotted a piece of metal on the hillside next to the road. "Do you think we should just leave it?" I asked.

         "Yeah, we can leave it," Carl answered. "It's probably old Barney's anyway."

         "Eh, I can get it," Dave said and he made the short climb up the bank. He grabbed the edge of it and pulled. I didn't think he would be able to get it out of the dirt and brush but he worked on it and soon had it free.

         "It's an old burn barrel," I say and think I should take a picture of it.

         "Smile Dave," I say at just about the same time he'd let it fly.

         And he smiled.

         And the barrel flew.

         Click-click-click, went my camera.

         "I caught the barrel," I said to Karis who was standing beside me. I showed her the picture. "It looks like it's going to hit me."

         Karis looked. "Uh-huh."

         I never had a moment's fear that it was going to hit me. I never moved.

         We walked and we talked and we picked up other peoples garbage.

         "There's a bird's nest," Dave pointed out.

         It was lying next to a downed branch and must have come down in the storm that swept through that week.

         "You want a bird's nest Abby?" I asked.

         "They can make for some fun decorations," Karis said.

         Abby was hesitant, unsure if she would hurt anyone's feelings if she refused, but eventually she wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

         "Okay," and I left it lay.

         We walk and we talk. "There's the pastor," someone said.

         I looked up and in the distance I could see two people coming at us. I put my camera on full zoom and snapped a picture, and we kept going.

         Spring brings new growth and on the pine trees I can never tell what's new growth and what's the first development of the pine cones.

         "New growth or pine cones?" I asked the group.

         "This?" Dave asks and swipes the branch. "That's new growth."

         Once the words were out of my mouth, and too late to take back, I saw the answer for myself. It's at an earlier stage, before they unfurl that I wonder about them.

         An old fence post with the insulators from an electric fence captures my attention for a moment.

         We walk and we talk and we load up another bag with garbage.

         When we met up with Pastor Mike and Kurt, our section of the road was done.

         "Let's get a photo," I called, they lined up for me and I took a picture.

          We still had a ways to go before we got to the vehicles so what did we do?

         You got it!

         We walked and we talked — and picked up missed or hidden pieces of garbage.

         Abby fell in step beside me. "Can I see?" she asked.

         "Sure," and I took the camera strap from around my neck and handed it to her. "Put the strap around your neck like I do. It's expensive and we wouldn't want anything to happen to it," I told her and she obeyed. 

         Once Abby was satisfied looking at the photos I'd taken, she started taking photos.

         I let her.

         I don't like pictures of myself because they show me how y'all see me. Fat. And old too, which I don't care about, but fat is another story, one I'm working to change.

         Abby did a pretty good job though and I don't mind this one so much.

         "Take a picture of me and my buddy Dave here," I said and put my arm around Dave's shoulder.

         We walk and we talk.

         And I hear the camera clicking behind me. I know I'm going to have to delete those, I'm thinking, but Abby wasn't hurting anything so I let her be.

         I rather like this one though, showing us going on down the road, scanning for any missed pieces of litter.

         At one point I turn around and see Abby taking pictures of apple blossoms, too long on the tree, and I was thankful she found something to photograph.

         She did a good job with this photograph.

         We came to an old access road to a field or old homestead maybe and the gate stood open.

         "Peg! Let me take a picture of you by the gate!" Abby said.

         Being a good sport, I posed for her.

         Abby took a picture of her pink cowgirl boots as she balanced on a section of guide rail.

         She squatted down and photographed a pretty yellow dandelion.

         Then we were back at the Jeep. Kurt was giving us a ride back to the church. I looked down and saw this wildflower. "Look at this one, Abby." I held it as she took a picture. This is Catsfoot or Pussytoes, a member of the daisy family. It's not open yet.

         After Abby took the picture she gave me my camera back. We got in the back of Kurt's Jeep and he drives us back to the church.

         "Is anyone doing this section of the road," Sara, Abby's mom asks, pointing to a section of the map Tracy made.

         "Is it ours? It's not marked," I asked.

         "Yeah, I've seen the signs on the road," Sara said.

         After some discussion, we loaded up in Carl's truck and headed back out to finish the last section of our adopted road.

         "Anyone want to get out here?" Carl asked when we reached that section of road. He slowed. "I'm going to go on up the hill and find someplace to park."

         "I'll get out here," I volunteered.

         "I'll go with her," Dave said. It's a good idea to work in pairs.

         Carl stopped and we got out.

         We hadn't gone very far before I saw this wildflower. This is Golden Alexander's.

         Thank you for the book on wildflowers, beautiful cousin Shannon. I use it lots!

         But this, I didn't need to look this one up in a book because I know wild strawberries when I see them.

  

         Leaves of three, let them be, is a rule that doesn't apply here. Wild strawberries have three leaves on them.

          It didn't take us long to finish this last section of road because there were a lot of people working on it.

         Three hours, and 40 bags of trash later, we finished just a head of the rain.

         I don't care what anyone says...

         Prayer works.

         Let's call this one done!