Yesterday morning, I walked a mile or so down the country road leading to my house. The road cuts through a section of state trust land. One of the access points for the state holding has developed into a place for people to target practice or simply plink away at nothing with their firearms. As I drew near this spot, I saw something—a lot of somethings—glinting across the ground.
On close approach, I found the
ground littered with spent shotgun shells and brass casings. I took a few minutes to pick up the spent
rounds and stuff them in my jacket and pants pockets.
I have long known that some of my
fellow citizens can be litterbugs. Now,
they are becoming well-armed litterbugs.
Not a particularly good trend.
My Litter Collection from
Yesterday
— Mitchell Hegman
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