After a week in Massachusetts visiting Brian’s family, on the trip home I didn’t fret so much about the stream of waste we were leaving behind in the form of Styrofoam dishware and Coke bottles (recycled of course, but made from virgin plastic nonetheless). More unsettling than a deliberate choice to take a callous attitude toward that which I cannot change – being three days on the road will cure anyone of aspirations of zero waste – was facing the remains of our take-out, which per my repeated instructions were sitting on the counter not to be tossed out before I snapped a picture. I didn’t choose to give Mother Nature the finger. I just did it.
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