I am a litter picker
Story 128
Welcome to Bridged2050: creating an even better Barnes during this climate crisis
My patch is modest: a handful of streets near my home, and I’ve been tending to it for years. Twice a week - Tuesday, the day after bin day, and Friday, as the working week closes - I head out with a picker, a hoop, and a kitchen bin liner. AirPods in, a podcast on, I stay until a bag is full or 45 minutes pass. I collect only the inorganic: the plastics, cans, wrappers, and the endless detritus of modern life.
The picker cost £7 from Amazon. I tried to buy one locally but failed. The bag hoop is from Waterhaul who use
.. traceable marine plastic recovered and recycled from the UK coastline.
Another value buy at £12. When my current picker packs up - they last about 18 months - its replacement will be from Waterhaul’s new range.
Motivation
I‘m not sure how I began litter picking but I know why I continue.
I like the sense of completion. There is the satisfaction of before and after: the blemishes visible, then gone. I feel a small dopamine hit delivered when order is restored.
It is not just this sense of agency. I want my world to be attractive. This is an exquisite corner of London, why accept any litter? I think this is more than a superficial desire. Most people in my experience maintain a relatively orderly private space in their home. Why should that not be true for the public realm? Why should I walk through piles of rotting rubbish whilst trying to live my best life, when I could walk along a better maintained public street?
It goes even deeper than that, though. Looked at through the lens of my generation’s challenges, the picker, hoop and bin bag are less about me than we.
Each outing is a small act of stewardship: tending to a patch of public space that belongs to all of us. I am giving time to neighbours I don't know and might never meet. To change any physical space into a desirable place involves intentional activities to make sure that place meets the community’s needs. I believe a litter-free street scene is one of those needs. It signals the shared space is cared for, that others are invested in the health and well-being of all of the community.
Clearly others give far more, and for far longer, and they deserve the greater credit. But together we form the other side of place — the quiet labour that makes community visible.
I make no claim for exceptionalism — mine or Barnes’. Local civic engagement is real, but it is hardly unique. Many London neighbourhoods nurture a similar spirit of volunteers, campaigners and joiners. They - we - are all trying to improve the local area. But this bond is stronger and more visible in some areas than others. I wonder where Barnes and Mortlake feature in that comparison? I am going to return to this topic again.
Other pickers
I am not alone. Litter pickers walk amongst us.
One of my neighbours supports the Richmond Park litter pickers. They remove prodigious amounts of rubbish every week.
I occasionally spot the White Hart Lane picker. He’s out early and has his work cut out. I have not seen him recently: I hope is ok.
There’s a team that keeps Barnes Common healthy. They were called out in the most recent issue of their society newsletter,
Your efforts not only keep the area clean and safe but also create a welcoming space for everyone to enjoy. You're making a meaningful, lasting impact on the environment and inspiring others to take pride in their local green spaces.
There is also a roving group who drop in on different parts of the Richmond borough. I have bumped into them a few times in ‘my area’.
Those bin men, eh?
What we seem to have in common, and this is a huge generalisation, is our make-up. We are introverts. I am sure he, she or they exist but I have yet to meet an extrovert litter picker.
As an introvert, I can be sociable but it is energy sapping. I recharge by being alone. Reading, cycling, watching football or cricket, alone. Or litter picking. I return home after time on the streets renewed. My batteries recharged.
That is why it took time for me to acknowledge my connection with those neighbours.
Litter picking is solitary, but rarely invisible. Someone almost always stops. Often a woman, usually to say thank you. True to my preferences, I used to hide beneath my AirPods. I didn’t mean to be rude: I was enjoying my own company. Now I realise that is ignorant.
The conversation often turns to the inevitable, who is to blame for all this? My instinctive response is, we are. It’s rather like a car driver complaining about the traffic. You are the traffic. That is not how most drivers see it.
The same is true with litter. The culprit is usually identified as the bin men. That is when the conversation gets interesting.
I disagree.
Or rather, I suggest it is unlikely.
I monitored the volume of litter over eights in spring and early summer 2025. I would be out every Tuesday working my path. I then went out again on Friday. I found most weeks there was more litter to be picked-up on Friday than on Tuesday.
Initially I thought this was proof people are naturally more careless than the bin men. Then I wondered if this was because of how cars move during the week. This matters because imost litter gathers in the gutter. Often the first time I can remove rubbish is when a car has driven off. Maybe the higher Friday harvest is because so many cars have moved positions during the week?
I don’t think so.
Most cars are used in Barnes and the wider Richmond borough only occasionally. 75% of Richmond borough households own at least one car, compared to 58% across London. But only 34% of working residents drive to work, again higher than the London average of 30%. In other words, a lot of cars don’t move during a typical week. What’s more, I was having the same experience repeatedly, over several weeks.
So no: not the bin men. Us.
Builders’ butts. Not that type
There’s another trend worth calling out.
If TimeTeam - if you know, you know - taught me anything it is the value of rubbish. I can tell you about the people who discarded it. Take for instance the litter this year and last.
In 2024 the number one item I collected was vapes. Every colour. Dozens of them tucked into the kerb. The most I collected in one session was 19.
In 2025 there are none.
It is weeks since I saw one. The ban on disposable vapes, which came into force in June 2025, seems to be working. Single use vapes are now illegal.
The litter crown returns to its previous holder - cigaratte butts. They correlate with builderers. As I write this, there are three teams of builders in Westfields Avenue lone. If you need to find then, look for the guttered cigarette butts.
There’s always one
One person didn’t say thank you. He wanted to know where I lived. Why do I do this? Is it not embarrassing? Shouldn’t the council do it? We spoke for a few years minutes. In the end, I asked him where he lived?
‘Why?’, he asked.
‘I don’t want to upset you. So tell me where you live and next time I won’t touch the stretch of pavement and road in front of your house’.
‘Oh. No I didn’t mean that’.