I was up to 2 a.m. watching a pretty bad Kung Fu movie, then wondered why I'd spent valuable sleeping hours doing it. So waking up slightly later in the morning I decided to go for a nice long Sunday walk as seems to be the normal. Part of the route takes me through a park with a lake in the middle of it, this is enjoyable. Scenically it is good to see trees and grass, these are things which are relaxing. The sun was out and it was a great day. A few weeks ago when I walked round the lake there was a thick green water weed in it. The ducks didn't seem to think much of it and some how struggled through it. It's like nature's rubbish, as I guess all weeds are but nature doesn't discriminate. It is humans who see these things as weeds. Unless of course they have been imported from another country so are actually alien species. Such as Africanised honey bees, large Chinese crayfish in central London's Serpentine and not to forget the occasional mosquito. The mozzys are having a problem establishing themselves because of European winters but it doesn't stop them from trying to get a foot in the door so to say. A very tiny foot. Funny though how the Scottish Midggy seems to survive the winter. At the point I hit this lake I've walked about three miles so may sit down on a seat somewhere for a short rest my walking pace kind of slows down as well. It is so pleasant walking on the footpath when there are few people around. I like the quite and the nature thing. On this walk though as somebody was walking a little faster and I could hear the voice of a man a distance behind me. It was annoying because I could now be walking for half a mile with this Dickhead and his loud voice niggling at me. There was no choice but to speed up and try to get out of ear shot of him.
He was with a woman, possibly his partner and he was a complete Dick. On account of being an individual who talked loudly in an open air park, can there really be a need for such twats in this world? I expect he's the type who would tell you things you already knew in a desperate effort to get attention. He probably loves the sound of his own voice, and practices talking with gusto every night, the neighbours had their walls soundproofed but then wear additional ear plugs at night as the man snores. It's one of those rattling noises and at such a pitch it can go through sound proofing and be like repetitive broken machine. Part broken because if it was fully broken it would make no noise at all. The man doesn't care about his volume, he just is what is he is, loud. A bit like American's can be when they are on holiday and take on an attitude like they own everything. I'm sure they don't mean to be like this, it's just the way the come across. Loud as well. Maybe the man has an American family, which would account for the genetic loud gene. Mind it's not just American's who are loud, there are shall I say other ethnic groupings who have a tendency to raise their voice and speak loudly. These are personal observations.
On the return walk, I walk over a heath. It is a beautiful patch of grass land. Many people use it for sports and social activities. However, today I noticed how it was littered with plastic bottles and empty cans of soft drinks. It seems not only does nature litter the place, humans do a pretty good job of bringing rubbish to pleasant places as well. I wondered if the plastic bottles were picked up by rubbish collectors for the heath. I'd never seen them around but there are strategically placed bins around the place. Which makes it worse to some extent. Why do we litter when it would be just as easy to take the litter and put it in a bin. If the rubbish isn't picked up it would not take too long for the next set of park users to get a little pissed off how the place was being abused. I must admit to feeling this way. Here certainly is a reason to have park inspectors with legal rights to fine litter louts. It is a shame, but maybe I am being a killjoy for saying such things, a fuddyduddy, and old grumpy man. Just to say though, I put my plastic bottle in my back slung over my shoulder, and considered although it is rubbish it is my rubbish and no one elses to clear up.
I got home after three hours of walking and felt completely knackered. Well and truly tired out. It's always the shoes, I just don't have a proper pair of shoes which feel comfortable enough walking miles in so my feet get very tired and sore. I'll have to do some research on what footwear to put on. Maybe see if there's something with spikes. So I could jab plastic bottles pick them up and put them in the bin. Or alternatively if I get into a fight with a loud mouthed Dickhead they'd also be a defensive weapon. Well, if one thing is sure to get me arrested that would be it and all because of a Sunday walk and the desire for some peace and quiet.
No comments:
Post a Comment