Detritus fascinates me. I can’t see a forgotten or rubbished object without wondering how it ended up in precisely that place. I make up stories about them, about the people or events that carried bits of things elsewhere.
On a ramble with B, I came across this bright yellow lid, in a forlorn just-past-the-sidewalk space right on a property line. I wondered if it belonged to either neighbor, if it was part of a feud between them, if it had simply been flung from a passing car. It looked deliberately placed, but I couldn’t swear to it.
Of course, while I was standing thinking about this, Miss B was pulling at the leash, determined to get to a lovely smell juuuust out of reach.
So, my gentle Readers. What story do you see?