Humans are a peculiar lot. We demonstrably are the apex creations of the world, but we also have the constant urge to point this out to our lesser cohabitants. We have this obsession that, from blue whales to amoebas and from redwood trees to dandelions, every living creature on this earth has to understand who runs the show. If we can’t hunt cave bears to extinction with pointy sticks, we have to resort to other measures.

I went for a walk the other day. The sun was shining, flowers were booming, sea gulls were harassing innocent passers-by for their ice creams and the wind was making a mess of my hair. It was absolutely wonderful. One of my favorite places to have a walk is a nearby pair of islands, one of which contains sheep. I can take a bus close to river delta area quite conveniently and walk over to the islands using duckboards. This place is a designated nature preservation area, so the urban infrastructure there is really scarce and the nature is as beautiful as you can get that close to the city.

The sheep on Sheep Island are few, but accustomed to human contact. Many a day can one see visitors take photographs of the sheep or caressing them. If the sheep are busy sleeping in the sun or meeting them has lost its novelty, the small island also has a few nooks and crannies for visitors to stop, sit down and eat their snacks in peace. I like to go sit on a bench by the water and just admire the glittering sea. However, not always is my trip there so pleasant.

As I was walking there, my eyes latched on to several objects lying on the ground that seemed, so to speak, unnatural. Midst this beautiful landscape and greenery there were candy wrappers, cigarette butts, bottle caps, styrofoam pieces and countless plastic shards the waves had washed ashore. My mood dropped from life-enjoying to disgusted very quickly. Sheep Island is a popular destination to people who want to enjoy walking in nature while remaining close to the city. What I can’t comprehend is why some people come here for the nature but at the same time put effort into destroying it.

There was an episode of Hello Internet by CGP Grey and Brady Haran titled Charismatic Megafauna. In that episode, they brought up a phenomenon where people, in general, are more likely to care more about the wellbeing of a large mammal than that of a small insect. Let’s put this in perspective; if you accidentally stepped on an ant, maybe you would feel bad for a little bit, but it wouldn’t ruin your day. However, if you stepped on the toes of a cat, you would feel bad about yourself for a considerably longer time, I wager. Scientists estimate that between 200 and 2000 species on this earth get wiped into extinction every year. However, most of these species consist of plants and small insects and reptiles, so the general public doesn’t care as long us there still are lynx at the zoo. For example, there is a species of grass, Eriocaulon jordanii, that has been declared extinct after having its natural habitat being appropriated to rice cultivation over long periods of time. Does a random person on the street know that? Probably not. Do they care? Ditto mark.

This brings me back to Sheep Island. The nature and the sheep are the main attraction there, we established that. And even with the charismatic megafauna modifier, these sheep and their beautiful habitat are endangered by people littering. People who presumably have come there to admire them. Tell me how that makes any sense. A sheep could be having lunch with no worries in its mind and accidentally swallow a burrito wrapper hidden in the grass it was eating, and it would cause a myriad of problems in its digestion.

What I’m saying is that I don’t understand people who litter. I know I just spent six paragraphs on getting that one idea across and now crammed it into one sentence, but I can’t emphasize enough how much it pisses me off. There are a lot of causes in this world you can pick and fight for. Some people pick multiple, others pick none. I, for one, will fight tooth and nail for our lush, green forests and woolly friends. Please, anytime you see a stray chocolate bar wrapper, pick it up and throw it in the bin. If not for the grass, then at least for the sheep.