The people who used to live on the property behind us sold their land and trailer to a cattle farmer, who uses it periodically to hold a small group of cows and calves. Eventually the trailer was torn down, but for some years it stood unprotected, and became a real hazard with all the critters and bugs that naturally infested it.
The property is now very overgrown, with untended black oak trees that sometimes have their enormous branches break off during storms. My guy and I actually watched part of one tree topple one day, resulting in a tremendous crash. Some things that belonged to the old neighbors have been left to rot as well, and even today remain on the property. Every time I see these things through the fence I'm reminded of how much stuff we tend to leave behind as debris of our lives.
This tool or tackle box has been silently sitting and rusting in the same spot for more than ten years now, tantalyzingly within reach. I'm sometimes tempted to grab it and open it to see what's inside (isn't that always the impulse with a mysterious box?) I won't touch it, of course, but maybe I'll write about it in a short story.
Because of this situation each time something I own ages and deteriorates I look for ways to revitalize, fix and reuse it. That's why I recovered my old office chair instead of buying a new one. I know a single chair doesn't make much difference in the grand scheme of things, but the mindset of seeing objects as still useful instead of junk keeps me from adding to the problem.
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