The trail was sloped from left to right. And, it was a steep uphill jaunt. I was careful as I picked my way up the trail which extended behind the shrubs of the landscaping. I spotted a Smirnoff bottle, probably a remnant from a foray twenty or more years before.
Then, the trays. I picked my way through the dense foliage until I came to the plastic trays that were used to populate this hill in Mission Viejo. They were still here, behind the greenery, and stacked neatly before having been flung into the gnarled branches of the old landscaping.
The trunks of the bushes which should have been perhaps a half inch thick, were two to three inches thick and were now supporting dead holly bushes that had been thrown upon them. I spotted an old Ruffels sack, sans Ruffels, and was nearly struck by an elevated irrigation line that sprung diagonally across the trail.
Suddenly, a Modelo 64 ounce bottle dislodged and came bouncing down the trail, past me, and continued straight toward the California Pizza Kitchen, bouncing off the protruding roots and rocks before coming to rest.
From the road this landscaping looked beautiful, green and flowing.
But, for me, it was a mess of old oil cans, Modelo bottles, and strange cacti waiting to spear unsuspecting gentlemen.
Sometimes things are not what they seem.