During a recent family vacation to the west coast, we took a drive to Lark Harbour, to revisit a spot revered in childhood memory. As we drove along the Bay of Islands, we noticed multiple garbage cans painted like row houses. There were singles, doubles and triples, all painted gaily in bright colours.
It seemed as if there were row house garbage cans planted every few kilometres. Then we noticed something even better: the landscape was pristine. I didn't see a coffee cup, chip bag, or takeout box as we motored along.
Fast forward a few days later to Gros Morne National Park, where at various viewpoints I spotted the detritus left behind by less mannerly humans — energy bar wrappers, sports drinks, etc.— mere centimetres away from garbage bins.
I don't know how to account for the difference except there were fewer garbage cans per kilometre in the park, so perhaps people were less likely to dispose of their garbage properly.
It got me thinking how often I treat garbage in St. John’s the way I do my snacks and drinks on hikes. Whatever I take in, I take out.
That was something I learned as a Girl Guide. Or as the Botanical Garden tells its members: take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints.
And yet the absence of garbage bins in St. John’s is astonishing. You can easily walk a couple of blocks without seeing one, and when you do, it is often overflowing.
More often than not, people just flick their garbage wherever they like. I can tell what fast food outlet is having a promotion just by the increase in branded cups and bags flying by in my neighbourhood.
Visit any beach in this province and I can guarantee you will find any number of cigarette butts or bottle caps, both metal and plastic. You can also see spent shotgun shells, tampon applicators, odd bits of rope, random pieces of Styrofoam cups and so on.
In this “Stay Home Year,” it becomes really obvious how careless people are. Because there are fewer visitors — one shop owner said his trade is down 80 per cent compared to this time last year — one might expect less garbage.
But no. Even in suburban areas like grocery store parking lots and big box commercial centres, litter abounds. Seriously, since April, every grocery store parking lot is like a dump for used personal protective equipment.
Is it really so hard to take home your used mask and gloves? Why must people flick them on the ground for the wind to take all over creation? Someone will still need to pick them up, too.
In this “Stay Home Year,” it becomes really obvious how careless people are. Because there are fewer visitors — one shop owner said his trade is down 80 per cent compared to this time last year — one might expect less garbage.
Now that we are at Level 2 in the pandemic management plan, there are more cars on the road. Sadly that also means there are more people flicking things out their windows, especially their still burning cigarette butts.
I saw a photo that really startled me last week — three young women went to a local beach/park area and collected three large bags of used butts. They were fed up with the mess.
A friend has taken to carrying a trash bag wherever she goes, be it the fields, the woods, or the trails. She has no problem filling it. It’s an inspiring act, but it is also a really sad statement.
Other friends have also taken up the challenge. They make a point of taking an extra bag to collect the garbage they see while walking their dog or taking their daily constitutional.
I admire that approach. It’s people taking responsibility for their community, doing their bit for the environment, and staking a claim for the continued future of the planet.
But it makes me frustrated. Imagine instead, that same energy going into planting a roadside garden, weeding a community vegetable patch, teaching kids forest lore.
So here’s a thought: let’s get more garbage bins and make them accessible and easy to use. Let’s find ways to reduce our generation of garbage, and let’s make it easier to dispose of rubbish and recyclables.
Changing group behaviour is hard, but it only takes one to get started and two more to join in and make it a habit. How about it? Who’s ready to make a difference?
Martha Muzychka is a writer and consultant. Email: [email protected]
