As I walked into town this morning, I was happy I did not take the bus. I had my handy recycle bag with me.
I started to pick up trash along Highway 12, West Spain Street and West Napa Street, picking up so much along the way that I was sick to my stomach, my own blood mixed with the containers of coffee and soda and plastic, metals and garbage.
I started to cry and a voice said loudly, “Don’t Mary Palmer, you love your environment.”
Too much to stop. I was so sick of cigarette butts and packages I couldn’t get them all. I lifted my head as I walked to your office and sat down to write this letter to you, the citizens of Sonoma, the USA and our planet earth.