Sunshine on the High Street

The East Coast haar this morning was thick enough to hide the litter covered grass of the Meadows before the arrival of the stalwart refuse collectors, and wet enough for the fielding of umbrellas by the early pedestrians.

I have ranted on many occasions about the picnickers who leave all their litter behind on the grass, and expect it's the job of others to clear up.
Where did they learn this behaviour?
I suppose it's the same people who think nothing of throwing empty bottles and wrappers out of car windows or fly tip broken fridges and washing machines in once picturesque countryside lay-bys.

Allied to this behaviour is the unashamed tree and wall hugging for bladder relief by young males and the the occasional young lady female.
Many of you have suggested methods of discouraging this strip tease act, but as yet I haven't had the courage to act. Do I have any volunteers?

About 10am the sun managed to burst through the gloom and chase the mist back to the North sea, and the world was transformed into summer again.

My blip of the misty Meadows was relegated to the bucket, and replaced with this one of the High Street roofs in the sun with the Tron church steeple in the background.