One of my favorite parts of the trail is the view of the creek, with the tireless stream and its tinkling pebbles rolling in the water. I love the sound of the watercourse and the smell of the eucalyptus... But there was something that clouded the whole scenario and ruined the beautiful view of nature: the garbage.
We usually stop to admire the small habitat of the turtles. We often catch them sunbathing, swimming or diving for food. They share their neighborhood with a pair of loving ducks who patrol the zone, making sure that everything is fine, and who invite friends over for dinner sometimes.
Once, I saw a blue heron holding a fish in his beak. He waited patiently for about 10 minutes until the fish stopped moving, and then he swallowed it slowly, keeping eye contact with me all the time and sending me the defiant message "don't even think about messing with my dinner."About twenty feet beyond the turtle habitat, between the wall that holds the trail and the shore, there were a bunch of dying branches that fell off the trees, obstructing the passage of the water and, consequently, holding lots of garbage that included bottles of different colors and sizes, plastic bags, mismatching shoes, dirty socks, and the stinky bubbly foam, floating in the scum.
My stubborn husband kept saying that he would go down there one day, and pick up all that trash that smears the whole picture. "You're kidding me," was my daily answer, even though I knew he meant it. But my hubby is not a procrastinator, and he did what to me seemed a "mission impossible."
He bought wading boots, a small saw, heavy-duty gloves and a box of large garbage bags. I was scared, just picturing water snakes, rats, all kind of insects, and the steep slope he would have to descend to get to the water. I may sound like a chicken, but I didn't want anything to happen to him, even if it was for a good cause.He was so determined that I could only support him and do whatever I could to help, and make it easier for him.
My father went with him, in case he needed some assistance. My mom and I watched from the other side of the fence, in the trail, answering the questions of the curious passers by, who stopped and asked what was going on down there. I carried my camera to record this risky, generous and altruist act that my husband volunteered to do for the community, and for nature.
He has no idea of how proud I felt, when I saw him dipped up to his chest, fearless and happy to get all that garbage. I loved him even more, not just for being so bold and brave, but also for his determination and his heart.
He filled two bags, cut the dry twigs and branches that extended their limbs into the blurry water, grabbing and gripping all the litter, as if it was their treasure. He also found a big swollen plank that was hidden under the surface, like a treacherous and deceiving iceberg. He worked hard for over an hour, while my father helped him from the shore clearing his way out and indicating him the best way to go. The whole place was full of spiders and buzzing mosquitoes, but nothing prevented my sweetheart from accomplishing his mission.
Now, if you walk along the trail and pass under Hamilton avenue, you will enjoy the loving ducks, the lazy turtles, and a beautiful stream of clear waters mirroring the sky.
This is a video of Rich working in the deepest part of the creek.If you enjoy the sound of water as much as I do, watch this 18 second video of one of the parts that Richie cleaned. It makes me want to put my feet in it... Enjoy!!
