I revere the Great Lakes. As a life-long Michigander, I am obsessed with our shorelines. I get to the big water as frequently as possible, my favorite being Lake Michigan. As a land-locked Michigander, it requires effort and planning to get myself to my favorite place. In gratitude for the magical soothing and calming I feel when I can no longer see the other side, I pick up trash. This is something I enjoy doing at every visit, all while hearing the sounds of the water meeting sand, seagulls, and the like.

I have a fun collection of beach glass and hag stones, along with army men figurines and fittingly, a plastic treasure box. What I haven’t kept is the countless cigarette butts & filters, balloons & ribbon, tampon applicators & wrappers, firework casings, broken cheap beach toys, food wrappers, or bottle tops I’ve thrown away. Someday I hope to live closer to Lake Michigan and this could be something I could do more frequently.

I do it for the lake, and the aquatic life; in apology for humanity and our penchant for carelessness. I do not, however pick up trash in service to other humans. As a matter of fact, during my most recent visit to the shore, I picked up a lot of trash, and then got really hot under the collar as I was doing it. It’s July. So, there were all kinds of fireworks wrappers and sticks and plastic shell casings. I generally walk close to the water, where it is public access. However, I follow the trail of trash. Often that takes me a few steps inland. Sometimes all the way to the dunes where food wrappers are tangled in with the dune grasses.

This last trip I got really annoyed because there are frequent, strongly worded, “private property” signs. And yet, some of those private properties are guilty of hoarding trash and debris. Are they allowed to leave refuse if they feel inclined? Couldn’t their groundskeepers continue down and clean up after the owners and their guests to the waterline? I find it so tacky that these multimillion dollar abodes hog the view, but then don’t pick up after themselves. As though their interest lies in owning the view, potentially trashing the view if so inclined, but not sharing. And fine, they paid for it. And sure, not all millionaires. Whatever. But I remain unimpressed.

A group of friends and I watched an older woman, we presumed retired, set up a little beach side table next to her chair. She threw a toy into the lake repeatedly for her dog. We watched as she made a make-shift water bowl out of an orange poop-pick-up bag, and poured her pup some bottled water. We all agreed that she had it made, and that we wanted to be like her when we grew up. The next day we headed back to the beach and ultimately sat at the same spot as the woman we admired.

Admired, that is, until we found the orange bag, semi-buried in the sand. Forget it! We agreed we did not want to be like that lady. Well, we could still aspire, but have a correction for her littering, I suggested. Version 2.0: new & improved.

I recognize that inadvertently things are dropped into the sand and they become nearly impossible to find again. And for those “whoopsies” I will continue to help out my beloved shores. But the fireworks litter in abundance on a private beach 19 days after the big blasting holiday? That’s just plain negligence. And that really bums me out.