Garbage, man

I hate taking out the garbage. I hate how it smells, and I hate the feeling of neverendingness (yes, I invented another word) inherent in this incredibly lonely, more or less weekly pursuit.

So it isn't surprising that I was in a decidedly foul mood as I added some last-minute material to the recycling bins this week. I wasn't feeling particularly reflective at that moment: I simply wanted to finish off this unwelcome chore so I could get back into the house and wash my hands like the good little OCD addict that I sometimes am.

But I looked over at the garbage bags that had been set out the previous night and had spent hours and hours soaking in the thunderstorms that slammed the region while we slept (see here for a picture of the oncoming clouds, and this set for more images) and noticed they were still covered with water. Even better, the droplets looked kind of interesting on the industrial green plastic background.

So I ran in, washed my hands (of course), grabbed the camera and returned to the curb to capture this. If you remember my thoughts about there being no such thing as mundane (see earlier entry) you'll be pleased to know that I've begun to learn from myself. It doesn't get more mundane than a soaking wet garbage bag. But despite my otherwise-glum mood, I captured a unique scene that was soon rendered history by the garbage truck's arrival.

Beauty does indeed flourish in the most unexpected places.

Your turn: What's the ugliest place where you have found a worthwhile image? What made it worth capturing and remembering? Is it available for viewing online?