Much of the park, I found, has been dedicated to the President's of the Salt Lake Women's Council. Plaques sit before several trees. One of them was cut down. I wonder if her family knows, or maybe they're the culprits themselves.
I came to a secluded bridge which crosses a creek far below. It was a romantic, little spot; the kind you see on engagement announcements. I've even used it before myself as the centerpiece to my own special occasion. A date which included a treasure hunt. Under the bridge a different narrative played out. There was an abundant amount of soda bottles and chip bags. How many teenage potsmokers had taken advantage of this refuge I could only guess. The remains of at least one of their homemade devices had been discarded here. I took the liberty of throwing it in the trash for them.
Nearby a guy played tennis with a girlfriend. His shorts were shorter than hers. The adjacent basketball court honored the late "Hoop it Up" Dan. The greek fraternity letters cause me jump to likely conclusions about his demise.
an interesting garbage illustration.
"I better get on that side I don't have my passport."
Just like last week I discovered how much junk is really just lying around.
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