Bottles

There’s a piece of marshland I regularly trespass on. It’s between a river and a railway and accessible only by climbing down a bridge. That means it’s a haven for wildlife as it’s uninterrupted by people and dogs. I love seeing the rabbits there and the birds are free to nest. There’s the occasional roosting Sparrowhawk, safe from interruption, and a Buzzard’s nest, although this year it’s unoccupied.

The only problem is that the land floods and with the floods come plastic bottles. Hundreds of them.

The plastic comes and it never leaves, caught by the reeds on the marsh. I want to clear it of this plastic rubbish but it’ll take more than just me. Me and whose army, I wonder? I need to do some ringing around of people who don’t mind a bit of clearing and aren’t averse to a bit of trespass. And who don’t mind climbing down a bridge.