Yesterday I took the kids on an evening walk after dinner. We are staying with friends who live in a village 40 minutes from where we hope to move next week. After the heat dies off and our bellies are full from dinner, an evening stroll is always a good idea. We walked a dirt road that leads into the hills, draped with vineyards. Beyond the paved main road, it’s all farm animals, trash and sweeping vistas.
Things I never thought I’d say on a walk: “Don’t step on the dirty diapers! See how may bras you can count. What colors do you see [referring to the variety of plastics and fabric]?” Houses on the main road have trash pick-up, but dumping trash on a quiet country road is still acceptable. Lil’ P excitedly counted bras and shoes. So much interesting refuse. At some point, as the road began a steep incline, the dump disappeared (probably too hard for people’s cars or horses to make the grade) and it became a peaceful, rural track.
