Down by the (Ohio) Riverside

The edge of the Ohio River.  Every time I visit, I see at least one flip-flop traveling on its own.

This wood was beautiful enough that if I could have lifted it, I'd have brought it home.  If I'd had some rope, I could probably have created a sleigh of sorts, rolled this piece onto it, tied it to Koko's collar, and had him pull it for me.  He'd have laid down for a few naps along the way, but surely he'd have enjoyed it?

I suspect most of the junk beside the river got there inadvertently -- things blow off boats in the wind, and dolls fall overboard, and rain washes things off.  See, that's the trouble.  It's not the litterers who are the problem (unless we count the don't-pick-up-their-dog's-crap litterers; I blame them profusely).  Even fine upstanding folks put paper cups and broken dolls into garbage cans, and all it takes is one stiff wind or a typical Louisville minor flood -- which would be major most other places -- and all of these things become one with the environment.