Abandoned Belongings

Elmer the husky and I cruised the boardwalk through the wetlands of the park. It was noon on a weekday and rain had finally let up.

Ducks abounded. I looked for fresh markings of beavers and nothing appeared. Spring is the time to see their handiwork here.

We rounded a curve on the boardwalk and I saw a a piece of rolling luggage standing upright with all its contents strewn around. Someone homeless had obviously abandoned it. Maybe dumped the contents? Why? Why here? Maybe someone came along found the luggage and dumped the contents? Lots of questions and I will never know the answers.

I stopped to inspect because I will always stop to inspect something like this. I want to know what someone trying to survive as homeless in my neighborhood carries around. What are their essential belongings?

The contents were dry. As it had rained very hard five hours earlier, I surmised this abandonment had occurred in the past several hours.

What struck me first was the amount of journals. Six by my count, most the classic black and white marbled-cover composition books but also a high end one that read: Vegan Leather Wellness Journal.

Was an aspiring writer at work here? I opened every journal and leafed through them—not a single written word. I imagine the extreme difficulty of trying to write while living as homeless, but I have encountered lost or abandoned journals from homeless people several times and even used two blank ones for my own writing. I've also seen homeless people writing in public at least a dozen times and if the opportunity arises, always ask them what they are writing. (The same goes with seeing a homeless person reading a book. That's how everything the Old Crow Book Club began!)

All of us should consider asking the same question in a similar situation. Be curious! Engage! That engagement might make a tiny or enormous difference for positive change and I know that from personal experience.

Other notable belongings left behind: a condom, Narcan spray, snacks, water bottle, makeup, nasal inhaler, scissors, a Hello Kitty watch (not running), CBD/pineapple lotion, toiletries, candy, various female-looking garments, various spare parts for a propane tank.

I decided to keep the vegan wellness journal. Scavenged doesn't have to be such a bad verb. I mean, this beauty would cost $15 in a store! I might write gold in these pages! I liked knowing its provenance. It had a story to it before I started filling it with stories. I shoved it the pocket of my pea coat and we continued on our way.

Why, might you ask, didn't I haul away the luggage and the belongings to the garbage? Well, I was walking a maniacal husky, but more importantly, I knew there were other items that still had purpose in them for anyone who might come along, homeless or otherwise.