The sun created some interesting patterns in our back garden, and it provided the perfect atmosphere for walking on the Heath with Olga. I took her back yesterday and we had a bit of excitement.
(Let me just say in advance that I realize this post will make me seem completely insane, but, well, it is what it is.)
When I walked Olga on Sandy Heath on Saturday, I found some discarded plastic bags that had been recently thrown from the roadside into the woods. You know how fascinated I am by rubbish, so of course the dog and I had a closer look.
They turned out to be mostly empty, but some had been torn open to reveal clothing -- two pairs of shoes, three shirts, some gloves, a winter coat and several sweaters (or "jumpers," as they say in England), among other things. The sweaters were still folded, as if they'd been taken straight from someone's drawer.
Well, I left everything there and kept walking the dog. But during the night on Saturday I kept thinking what a shame it was that those perfectly good clothes, which had obviously been there just a day or two, were left to rot in the woods. So yesterday, I took a bag with me, and Olga and I revisited the same spot. I decided to collect anything that seemed useful and take it to charity.
I didn't take everything, because some items really were trash -- old and worn, or stretched out. (And nobody wants used socks, after all -- ugh.) But I took two perfectly good dress shirts and a white printed t-shirt. I brought them home, washed and dried them, and I'll take them up to Oxfam later this week.
I also salvaged these very bizarre shoes -- Reeboks, as it turns out. Size 11 1/2. They've seen some wear but they're so unusual, they might be thrift store gold!
So yes, I'm crazy. I just can't stand waste, not to mention fly-tipping. If there were a public trash receptacle somewhere nearby I'd have picked up the rest, put it in a garbage bag and left it for collection. In fact, that might be a future project...