11. Through the summer the wild grasses and verge plants grow

too high to see through, too deep and thick to get down into the ditches where so many lost and discarded things end up. But in the autumn the hedges are cut and the verges are mown; and all the cans, bottles, cups and wrappers thown out since Spring and missed in the weekly litter-picks are smashed and torn apart, or emerge miraculously unscathed in the ditch bottoms. 

We measure our skill in how little there is, and how few there are.