Johan van Zyl, Gordon’s Bay
The prevailing wind here in Gordon’s Bay has singled out my property as its preferred dumping ground for litter.
On blowing down the street, it ignores the other addresses and spews its airborne rubbish on to my front yard only. You have to see it to believe it.
The wind’s predilection for my plot of water-starved front lawn is ongoing, but it reaches its peak on Mondays, when the residents all along the street put out their overflowing wheelie bins to be emptied by the waste removal contractor.
Now these workers know exactly what’s in their job description. Their job is to hook the bins onto the truck for emptying, and unhook them afterwards.
Their job is not to pick up spilled trash. That’s where the wind comes in.
It sweeps the spillage up and dumps it, fence or no fence, magically on my lawn.
A recent observation by me illustrates the wind’s methodology. The other evening I was standing outside our front door enjoying the cool air after a stifling day.
I noticed an empty styrofoam fish and chips container lying about 20 metres down-road from me.
The restless wind played around with it for a while, then edged it along until it was in the middle of the road just opposite our front door.
Then, inexorably, the container crept directly towards our boundary, where it came to lie huddled up against the palisade fence.
It was too big to pass through the slats, but, aided by the breeze, it opened up like a clam, twisting and turning until it had successfully wiggled through.
It lay, its task accomplished, twitching on my front lawn, waiting for my undivided but resentful attention.
I need not wonder further how the wayward wind manages it.
The proverb “It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good” springs to mind. Often misunderstood, the saying is based on the premise that when something is bad, someone else will usually benefit.
Well, I find consolation in the thought that I am doing my neighbours a favour every time I clean up their litter.
