Garbage has been coming up from the ground ever since we got here. It just sort of appears, rising out of the dirt. One day you suddenly see the bill of an old ball cap, or a bail of a bucket. We find the strangest things. So far the most useful has been an old (true rubber) rubber ball, with a root growing straight through it. The dog loves it, root and all.
The chickens help, scratching around like accidental archeologists. I’m convinced though, that garbage finds its way out somehow, although by logic it should get buried in the sediment of leaf litter becoming dirt, and so on and on. More is appearing all the time.
I feel like I’ve been cleaning up plastic and glass for a year. Plastic and broken glass. Plastic and broken glass. I’ve spent hours and hours picking it out of the dirt, and I could spend days and days. I try to just tell myself that every session of glass collection is good and useful, although no, it may never be done. It’s all over, one of the most insidious types of garbage around. Plastic is dead useful, I get it. I use a lot of it. But left alone, it crumbles to flakes and mixes itself into the soil. The chickens will helpfully eat it (Colourful!), just like styrofoam, which swiftly finds its way to its component spheres, a real chicken favorite (crunchy! Yum).