I was at the Dump today. No, ladies, I'm not talking about your ex-boyfriend's apartment, I'm talking about the county waste disposal facility...but everyone usually just calls it the dump. I gathered some construction debris leftover from a sloppy contracting job, loaded it in the back of my pickup and I was off. I like going to the dump from time to time, not just because I like to tidy up, but because the dump often reminds me of what's really important. If you look closely at the sea of rubbish, you'll find that the garbage isn't simply garbage...but pieces of people's lives. The dump is an assault on your senses. The air reeks of decay of various states and the rumble of huge tractors grinding garbage underneath their metal treads produces all kinds of shreeking, popping and crushing noises. But if you look closely, you'll find that this place speaks. I look around it and I see pieces of my childhood. Old soccer balls and basketballs, that plastic big wheel I loved to ride, broken tractors and limbs from various action figures. Old tables and chairs with missing legs, pieces of torn houses with rotten wood and drywall, window panes jagged with broken glass gaping open like a square mouth. These things are strangely familiar although they aren't all mine...but what makes them mine is what they represent in my life. When you see them strewn about this place unwanted and broken, you can't help but think that you don't really own anything in this life. The objects here were once bought with hard earned money and maybe even treasured but after they have outlived their usefulness, here they lay just the same. I guess in a long enough timeline, most everything we own will wind up at the dump. But I believe that some objects do not wind up here...they are carefully cherished and passed on to be taken care of. I look around and I remind myself that I cannot use the years I have remaining pursuing things that will be left unwanted and broken. I believe that a life well-lived HAS to pass through someplace like this. Where the truth is in your face to remind you that nothing lasts forever except for memories. What will you leave behind? Will it be cherished or thrown away? I unload my trash and watch the tractors push it away to a newly formed pile, my truckbed is empty and clean once again. As I drive away, I think about what an ugly place the dump is ... and how much I truly appreciate coming here.