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1 always learn something when I take a walk with my four-year-old. On a recent stroll in Old Hollow, I spied a green beer bottle trying to feign innocence by hiding beneath a fresh clump of spring grass. Obviously, the bottle had been pitched who-knows-when from some car window. My four-yearold spotted it too.
I started to walk by, as if I hadn’t seen a thing. My four-year-old didn’t. He stopped, stared at that bottle, wrinkled his nose, and picked it up. “What are you doing?” I asked. He grimaced. “Woodsy Owl says ‘Give a hoot, don’t pollute,’ Dad,” he retorted.
“What are you gonna do with it?” I demanded. Without a word, he reached over and stuck the bottle, neck down, in my pocket, and we were on our way again.
Time and again, citizens who don’t toss trash wonder why a few still do. Is there a country road in Rappahannock untainted by the mess? We don’t think so.
The Virginia Department of Highways and Transportation spent more than 1,000 hours at a cost of nearly $6,000 to pick up litter along Rappahannock public roads during 1982 and ’83. Those dollars should have been spent on road and highway repair.
Obviously, the litter situation leaves little room for kidding around. If there’s a bright spot, it probably is
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