Tweaker Heart

There is a spot down our little country road where it's possible to pull off onto the shoulder and look over the edge into the forest and creek below. A beautiful sight. Unfortunately, this area has become a place where, as evidenced by the garbage accumulating, people stop, but not to admire nature. They come here to get high. Or to drink. Or to throw out their trash ... old chairs ... computers ... car parts ... stolen and plundered newspaper boxes ...

Tweakers are people who get high on methamphetamine, a highly addictive drug. You know they've been there by the small squares of scorched tinfoil they inevitably leave behind. So sad. Such a waste of life.

I found this tweaker heart here, next to the road. Did the person(s) who dropped this heart notice the lush ferns nearby when they got high? Or the big leaf maple, fir and cedar trees overhead? Did they stop to listen to the birds calling and the sounds of children playing in the woods? I think not.

They probably didn't even notice that they left behind their heart.