I was biking home from the grocery store today when I spotted a shopping cart parked against a pole at the corner. I recognized the model from a distant store not the nearby one and wondered at how it had traveled so far.
What a brave little cart. I have seen others that weren’t so lucky. A rusted one in a ditch, some adopted by the homeless only to carry far more than they ever did in the store. Some that only make it as far as the end of the grocery parking lot; a wheel stuck in the dirt- unable to cross the unpaved divide to freedom.
They don’t get far when they are caught by the dreaded shopping cart bounties. I’ve seen these fellows in their pick up trucks with the extra high canopy on the back to accommodate the carts. I wonder how much they get for them? A high price I suspect. It’s an easy job as most carts are docile creatures. They just long to escape the endless circling of the store, burdened with groceries, screaming kids kicking them, and the final indignity of being shoved together with the other carts.
No, I don’t begrudge them their attempts to flee to a secret place unknown to us, like the mythic Elephant cemetery where the grieving herd deposits the tusks of the deceased.
As I passed the lone cart in the darkness, I wondered if it had paused in it’s flight to get it’s bearing and revel in the taste of freedom before attempting to cross the busy intersection. Whatever it’s destiny I silently wished it luck. Go cart, go.