top of page

Do You Ever Feel... a plastic bag? The first line in Katy Perry's song, "Firework," has got to be the worst first line of any song ever written. Don't go hating on me, KP fans, if you dig down deep enough you know this is true. But it's often the worst songs that are the catchiest, and on this day, as I pulled into the Big Y parking lot and saw a plastic bag hanging from a beautiful tree, it was the first thought that popped into my mind. (See the tree and the bag — to the right of the pink heart — in the photo below,)

I wondered how this tree felt playing host to a piece of trash. I know I would be angry, "How dare this garbage attach itself to me!!" I would shout, as I did my best to shake it loose. I wouldn't look at it, I'd pretend it didn't exist, and I would pray for my leaves to grow in to hide the blight from passers-by.

But then came a new thought, "Maybe they're friends." Maybe the tree saw the bag riding the wind and thought, "I hope it chooses me, I hope it chooses me!!" Maybe the tree stretched out a branch and welcomed the bag, saying "Please stay with me. I'm so lonely." And the bag stays because it is wanted and appreciated, and each night it sings the tree to sleep with a crinkly lullaby.

The thing is, you never know, do you? We observe, and we make judgements based on such little information, interjecting our own experiences or preferences into every situation. And while I don't ever feel like a plastic bag (though I often have bags under my eyes), I realized today that I also don't know how a plastic bag feels.

Something for all of us to keep in mind.




bottom of page