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It’s not my favorite thing, but I can’t resist stopping when I am walking up thru the woods and find a beer can with the word “Natural” on it. I take a picture of it and add it to the digital pile.
I have to wonder who passed thisaway, thru all this beautiful woods and forest floor where I would sit, and drops a empty beer can, “Natural” or not.
I can’t tell you how much an empty beer can weighs exactly, something like half of an ounce. Like a slice of bread, a pencil or a CD, which of course we don’t have to worry about anymore. But how hard would it be to carry it back to whatever brought your messy-ass self back up in here.
And in the broad scope of worry, what does a beer can on Fly Mountain matter. Chickasaw people left mounds of trash that archaeologists’ families depend on for mortgage payments.
So I guess this is personal. Maybe you don’t love America. You were born here so I guess that is your right, ignore laws created by representative governments, defile the creations of God, which the First Amendment says you don’t have to respect, grease up your Second amendment with the 21st Amendment and drop it right here, even though packing it out weighs no more than a squirrel fart.
Yalobusha County, MS