Cemetery of dead packages. The master of mysticism Stephen King, has once written well-known «the Cemetery of pets». There, in the novel, in the middle quite usual wood the mysterious glade with well-groomed могилками почивших favourites has settled down. Why it was recollected? Probably, by analogy. A foggy edge страшенского the woods, covered with gradually rocking packages - on the one hand, full contrast, and on the other hand, than not a cemetery? The Moldavian cemetery. Remember, how in a song: «... Here birds do not sing, trees do not grow...». However, trees still grow, the nature so quickly does not surrender. But if to consider, that the period of decomposition of polyethylene makes an order of hundred years, and the dump while only extends, will be fast here instead of wood only a burial ground. A cemetery of dead hopes. Hopes that we quite civilised people, confidence of each of us that it - well brought up, successful and modern person.
Whether so it? You discontentedly screw up the face, coming to wood on picnic and trying to find a place is purer? And after your visit, how many the dust remains? Personally I was admired always with our especially clean fellow citizens. In desire to keep virgin cleanliness of the nature, they collect all dust in a package and push it deeply under rhizomes of trees. So that already precisely nobody has got. The second category of fans of the nature from woods takes out dust, but on a way simply throws out from a car window on a roadside. Good fellows, careful you ours! With such friends to our poor ecology and enemies are not necessary. Soon absolutely we will stick in own dust, and compositions of visionaries about the worlds dirtied to impossibility become a reality. A good gift to children and grandsons. It is not necessary to gratitude, as they say.