To slow down and go through the process of collecting the beach plastic is easy. The islands move at a pace different from North American cities. Six months or a year after my last visit I arrive back and it is like I left only yesterday. Nothing has changed, friends greet me like they just saw me. I like this sense of suspension. It is the beach plastic on the wide stretches of pink sand that remind me of a faster world beyond the ocean’s horizon, where there is no time to think of the consequences that tossing a Mazzola bottle “away” may have on some distant beach.
This picture shows yellow plastic collected in just one morning from a small sandy cove that traps litter. Bottles and tops, lids, remnant of a flip flop, the seat from a toy car, segments of laundry baskets and crates, logos in all languages are all incorporated in the yellow tees that follow:
YELLOW 488/750 Plastic is Forever
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