Having a whale of a time

It is often said the definition of madness is repeating a behaviour and expecting a different result. Um, one GoodGymer attempted again to rid a rural road of rubbish.

Equipped with his overused garbage grabber and a diminishing grasp of his sanity, Matthew set off on the fourth, and hopefully final, attempt to collect all the trash along Ockwells Road.

The late afternoon rubbish ramble happened in the wake of storm Isha. Wind battered trees had shed many sticks and twigs, but the bad weather had kept the litter bugs hiding at home, meaning the previously cleared parts of the road had stayed free of newly dumped domestic debris.

But the wind had shifted leaves, revealing many cans and bottles that had been hidden before.

They were gathered into the sack. The sack still had plenty of room. There was still hope for a successful day.

Good progress was made in uncharted territory further down the road. Dog walkers shouted encouragement and thanks for the litter picking effort. Buoyed by this, rubbish was snatched at a rapid rate, the end of the road was in sight.

Then disaster. A pile of beer cans was found. A pile of extraordinary proportions. A pile large enough to fill an already bulging bin bag. Success was scuppered, failure had won the day.

I have started to feel like Captain Ahab with his obsession to best the whale (my ever expanding grey beard only adds to this vibe). A litter free Ockwells Road has become my Moby Dick and I cannot stop its pursuit now. Sadly that tale did not end well for the unhinged Captain.

Soon I will, um, set sail once again to finish this trash task. I hope not to fail as Captain Ahab did, but to channel my inner Captain Birdseye and finally succeed.